And It's Forever
by Lacey McClane
Summary: When love blossoms between unexpected couples at Hogwarts, a whirlwind of complications, drama, happiness and heartbreak ensues. When you fall so hard in love, it's never easy. Especially when the threat of Voldemort is looming on the horizon. Eventual Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Ron/Hermione, Seamus/Blaise more! SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Hi, everyone! So, this is my very first story here. Hope you guys like it. I have many chapters already written, but I'm planning to post them here as updates maybe once every week (or maybe more frequently, depending on any feedback/comments I receive). All grammatical errors are my own. I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe, but any original characters are my own. But as I said, it's my first story, and I'm new to fanfiction, so any feedback would be great! xoxo Lacey

* * *

"Harry, hurry up with those butterbeers!"

"Harry, come on, mate!"

"I'm coming!" Harry called back, his tone slightly irritated though his eyes were smiling and good-humored.

Harry entered the Gryffindor common room and settled in between Ron and Hermione in a circle of students. The whole house was alive. Well, of course it was. Gryffindor had just won their first Quidditch game of the season against Ravenclaw, and once again, Harry was the Wizard of the Match, having caught the snitch in a terrifyingly steep dive that had Lee Johnson gaping at a loss for words. The celebrations that had started almost immediately after the match had grown so loud and wild that even Percy Weasley, the Head Boy, had given up trying to control everyone and had simply cast a silencing spell on the common room and retired early to the protests of his housemates for him to stay.

Many of the students were celebrating in the common room, with the Quidditch players at the center of attention. Harry laughed along with his housemates, accepting the excited hugs and pats on the backs he received as he placed the four bottles of butterbeer, which he'd sneaked out of the kitchens, in the middle of the circle.

"Do you remember Davies' _face_ when you caught the snitch, mate?" Ron was saying, his face split in a wild grin.

"Well, practice makes perfect, doesn't it, Harry?" Hermione said, looking at Harry with a proud smile on her face. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, 'Mione," Harry replied thankfully, blushing for the umpteenth time that evening.

"Are we going to sit here all night or are we going to get the game started," Seamus hollered from the other side of the circle.

"What game?" Harry asked.

"Why, Truth or Dare, of course," Parvati giggled. "No better way to get the night started!"

Harry groaned inwardly. The last time they'd played Truth or Dare, Cormac McLaggen and Jack Sloper had been sent to the Hospital Wing for breaking each-other's noses after a fight they'd gotten into arguing over who Daphne Greengrass – the 'Slytherin babe,' as she was called – liked better. It also ended with Ginny bursting into tears when Lavender inadvertently insulted the redhead's appearance.

In short, Harry hadn't had great experiences with this game. He surveyed the people in his circle, and therefore, the people who'd be participating in the game. Besides himself, there were Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Lavender, Seamus, Dean, Parvati, Cormac, Oliver Wood, Jack Sloper, Alicia Johnson, Katie Bell and the Weasley twins.

 _Oh well,_ Harry thought. _Maybe it won't be as bad this time._

"So, who's first?" George asked.

"Well, brother," Fred replied, his eyes slanting slyly. "I'll say Oliver, since he's captain and all."

"What a fantastic idea, Freddo," George agreed. The twins obviously had something in mind for the Quidditch captain. The students in the circle leaned forward in sudden interest. The last time the twins had interrogated Oliver like this, they'd managed to get him to admit that he was, in fact, gay – news that had been, to Oliver's relief, well accepted by the Gryffindor house, and then, by the rest of Hogwarts.

"Fine, then," Oliver said, taking a swig of his butterbeer. "Do your worst."

"So, Ollie," Fred said, leaning forward. "Truth or dare?"

"With the way you're staring at me, Fred, I'll say Truth will be the less painful of the two options," Oliver replied, looking at the twins nervously.

"Well," George said, happy with himself. "Who was your last kiss?"

Oliver blushed. "I… I don't know, I mean – It's hard to say…"

"Oh, come on, Ollie, tell the truth!" Fred chided, laughing at the embarrassment he was causing the Scot.

"Yeah, come on, mate, who was the lucky gal?" Cormac asked, nudging the keeper.

"Or lucky boy!" Alivia said, her eyes glinting in amusement.

"Ahh… well, it was Cedric," Oliver finally admitted, trying to hide the blush that reddened on his cheeks.

"Diggory?!" Ron gasped.

"I didn't know he was gay," Harry thought out loud.

"But you need to keep this all to yourselves," Oliver pleaded. "He hasn't come out yet, and we kissed once when we were drunk, and that was all, so…"

"Don't worry about it, mate. Secret's safe with us," Jack Sloper insisted, giving Oliver a reassuring pat on the back.

"Yeah, what's said in the circle stays in the circle!" Seamus laughed. The other students quickly nodded, agreeing to keep the Hufflepuff's secret. Cedric was a good bloke, after all.

"So, who's next" Fred asked.

"I'll go," Ron chirped up. "I have a feeling you two will grill me whether I go now or later, so I might as well get it over and done with."

George snickered. "Well, little brother, unfortunately Fred and I haven't thought up anything quite as embarrassing as we would like to ask you."

"Nevertheless, truth or dare, brother?" Fred asked, leaning in almost menacingly.

"Dare," Ron decided, shrugging as if to say _"here goes nothing."_

"Anyone got a dare for Ron?" Fred asked. "Make it a good one, if you please."

"Oh I have one!" Ginny exclaimed. Ron looked at his sister worriedly. "Kiss the most beautiful girl in this circle on the lips. Right now."

Harry's eyes widened. He took a quick glance at Hermione, who, he knew, had feelings for Ron even if she wouldn't admit it to herself. Ron had always been completely oblivious to them.

Ron blushed, his cheeks turning almost the color of his hair. He looked around the room at all the girls present. Parvati eyed him eagerly while Lavender toyed with her hair, obviously inviting Ron to kiss her. After a few tense moments on Ron's part, he scooted over nervously to Katie Bell and gave her a quick peck on the lips. Katie looked up at him with a surprised but friendly smile. Ron blushed impossibly and quickly went back to his place. Lavender's gaze followed him murderously. Harry had to hide a chuckle. _Serves you right._

And so the game went on, with Cormac admitting that he'd once had a wet dream about Hermione, with Alicia admitting to having had sex with Terry Boot one day after a Quidditch game – knowledge that made Oliver narrow his eyes in disapproval – and with Seamus being dared to knock on Snape's door and run away – something that only earned him three days of detention, much to the Irishman's chagrin.

When the clock chimed 2:30AM, Oliver, the only 7th year still awake with the giddy underclassmen, called an end to the celebrations, ushering everybody upstairs. The inner Percy Weasley in Oliver told him to at least make an effort to clean up the common room, which the captain attempted to do with a couple of spells he knew from the top of his head. After all, it wouldn't reflect well on the house if the common room was in ruins and the students were all hung-over and exhausted a day after a good and righteous win.

* * *

Harry stared up at the ceiling above his bed. He'd closed his bed curtains, feigning exhaustion to his dorm-mates. In reality, his mind was tossing and turning with thoughts. He hadn't had much to drink, but he felt as though his mind was spinning.

Harry was confused. He'd been confused for months now, ever since Oliver Wood came out as gay. And now, spurred on by the image of Oliver and Cedric… _together,_ Harry found himself thinking again about the same thoughts that had plagued his mind when he realized that Oliver was gay.

Harry couldn't deny that he had felt… something… when he thought about two boys locked together intimately. He found men attractive, that much he knew. But not so much women. Daphne Greengrass was a good example of this. She was lusted after by almost all the boys at Hogwarts. She was the epitome of a beautiful girl. She was blonde, slim, coquettish but shy and innocent, tall but not too tall, she had dazzling blue eyes and pert breasts… But she did nothing for Harry. Sure, she wasn't bad to look at, but he never imagined or even wanted to be with her _that_ way.

Boys were a different story. For months now Harry found himself noticing boys more than girls. He'd snuck peaks at Oliver Wood in the locker room showers, eyes trailing over his lean, toned body, the arch of his backside… Harry couldn't deny that although he didn't feel anything for the Scot romantically, he was extremely attractive. So was Jack Sloper, though Harry had a firm inkling that he was as straight as they come. The point was that Harry did like men better. He was _attracted_ to men.

He wondered how people would react if he came out. He wasn't ready yet. He definitely wasn't. Hell, he'd barely come to the conclusion that he was… gay. How could others accept it when Harry himself hadn't?

But he wondered for a moment what things might be like if he did come out. Would Ron and Hermione accept him? Would they turn him away? What about the rest of his housemates?

 _Don't be ridiculous,_ Harry thought to himself. _They accepted Oliver just fine. And Seamus came out last year, as well. They treat him no differently._

Harry sighed. _But what if they did treat me differently?_

Could he bare it if his best friends changed towards him? Harry sighed and rolled over. There were too many questions. He knew he wasn't ready to answer any of them.

Deciding not to worry about the thoughts that swirled dangerously around in his mind just yet, Harry closed his eyes and begged for sleep to take him.

* * *

Oliver rushed down the corridor towards the Great Hall. He was extraordinarily late for breakfast, thanks to his hangover and his wand, which he could not locate for the better part of the morning before finding it wedged between the carpet and the floor of the common room.

 _Just what I need,_ Oliver thought, _another day when I miss out on all the good food for breakfast._

Just as he was rounding the corner, he crashed into someone and was sent sprawling out on the floor. He looked up, dazed, and found himself face to face with a sneering Marcus Flint.

"You'd think a Quidditch player would be able to stay on his feet better than that, Wood," Flint drawled.

"Oh, leave it, Flint," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. He wasn't in the mood for a fight.

But as Oliver tried to get up off the floor, the hand he was using for leverage slipped from under him and he collided with the floor again, wincing when his cheek hit the cold surface. He groaned and looked up again, expecting to see Flint laughing.

Instead, Flint was kneeling beside him, looking at him with an unidentifiable expression in his eyes.

"Jesus, Wood," he said softly, his voice lowering into almost a gentle whisper. Oliver couldn't pinpoint the emotion in his tone.

Then, to Oliver's surprise, he felt Flint lift him up off the ground and to his feet. The Slytherin's firm touch was not at all similar to the rough handling Oliver had become used to when it came to the older boy.

"Wha –"

"Oliver!"

Oliver turned to see Percy walking towards him, a disapproving frown on his face.

"Where have you been?" Percy asked in exasperation. "Breakfast is almost over. The house elves will come around to take the food away soon. Did you really sleep in _that_ late?"

"Sorry, Perce… I was dizzy, and I couldn't find my wand.. and…" Oliver's voice trailed off as he realized what he was saying. It sounded a lot less pathetic in his mind.

He nearly jumped when he heard Flint muffling a laugh. He turned around, suddenly reminded of the other boy's presence.

"What are you doing here with Flint, anyway, Oliver?" Percy asked, his brow furrowing in curiosity. "And what's that bruise on your cheek? Did Flint do that? Flint, I'll have you know that I can take house points away – "

"Yes, Weasley," Flint said mockingly. "You have told me on numerous occasions that you can, in fact, take house points away."

Percy bristled at Flint's condescending tone. "You Slytherins never learn, do you?"

"Come on, Perce, he's not worth it," Oliver sighed. "Let's just go to breakfast, okay? I'm starving."

Percy glared at Flint for a couple more moments, his wand hand twitching, before he huffed and strode off to the Great Hall.

Before Oliver followed him, he glanced back at Flint, who only stared at him again with that same emotion Oliver couldn't quite place. The two captains seemed to be stuck in time, eyes locked.

Suddenly, Flint nodded briskly before turning away. Oliver watched him in curiosity as he took the nearest turn towards the dungeons.

Oliver sighed and turned around to follow Percy. He was too hung-over to figure out why Flint had been less than momentously hateful to him for once.

* * *

"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed disapprovingly. "Don't talk with your mouth full like that."

Ron stopped talking, chewing the rest of the bacon in his mouth and gulping it down before continuing to talk to Seamus. Hermione shook her head.

Harry chuckled, used to his best friends' antics by now. He was enjoying his meal, evident by the food he kept on piling onto his plate. The first weeks back at Hogwarts were known for being the best in terms of what the school served for meals. That day, the Gryffindor table was full of plates with piles and piles of pancakes, waffles, shortbread, lemon cakes… the list was endless. By now, though, the amount of food had already lessened significantly thanks to the appetites of all the hung-over students.

Suddenly, Ron let out a big belch.

"Oh, _honestly,_ Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron had the decency to blush.

"So, mate," Ron turned to Harry, avoiding Hermione's glare. "Have you finished that Potions essay?"

Harry shook his head sheepishly as Hermione turned her glare at him. "I haven't started it."

Hermione blinked in disbelief. "What? You've had the whole week, Harry!"

"I know," Harry shrugged guiltily. In truth, he just hadn't been in the mood for hardcore work. "I've just been busy with… with Quidditch and all. I have the whole night, though. I promise I'll work on it."

"You better," Hermione said. "And you won't be getting any of my help. You've had all week."

Ron clapped Harry on the back.

"I'm right there with you, mate," he said. "Let's pull an all-nighter!"

Ron shrank away from Hermione's withering look. "I've started it, I promise," he insisted.

Just then, Percy stormed into the Great Hall, followed closely by Oliver, who looked slightly distracted.

"What's wrong, Perce?" Ron asked as his brother sat down in his usual seat, still emanating anger.

"Flint," he seethed, gritting his teeth. "He wouldn't know decency if it slapped him across the face."

Ron nodded in understanding, as did a couple of other Gryffindors. Flint had pissed off more than his share of people.

As Harry leaned over to scoop some more mashed potatoes onto his plate, he noticed that the Slytherin table was quite empty. Other than Flint, who had barged in a couple moments earlier, there were only a few other faces he recognized.

"Hey, the Slytherin table is looking empty," he thought out loud.

"Didn't you hear about the fire near Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked.

"Fire?" Ron asked.

"Yes, I read it in yesterday's paper," Hermione explained. "Apparently there was this freak fire in the neighborhood where most of the rich Slytherins live. Malfoy, Zabini, Montague… At least those were some of the names listed in the article."

"Was there any lasting damage?" Harry asked. He didn't particularly like the Slytherins, but he'd hate to think of a fire destroying anything important.

"No, they were able to contain the fire easily," Hermione said. "No casualties. But the students whose families were affected were given a day off to be with them, starting yesterday evening. They should be back by dinnertime today."

Ron scoffed. "They should have been given longer off. I wouldn't miss them."

Percy nodded in agreement. "Not at all."

Harry kept his eyes locked on the Slytherin table. He didn't know why he felt weird without the Slytherins around, but for some reason, the Great Hall seemed strangely empty without them, as though something was missing.

 _What are you on about?_ he asked himself. _You don't_ miss _that group of Slytherins. They're the ones who prance around preaching pureblood supremacy! You hate them._

Nevertheless, Harry stared at the Slytherin table for a couple more moments, trying to place the sense of emptiness he felt.

* * *

Harry entered the common room, running late from class after getting a rough talking-to by Professor Flitwick for accidentally setting the man's robes aflame. He was mentally exhausted, ready to crash on his bed for what he felt was a well-deserved nap.

When he looked around the common room, however, he noticed that it was completely empty apart from Oliver, who was sitting on the sofa next to the fireplace, eyeing his Quidditch gear with a frown on his face.

"Hey, Oliver," Harry said. "Something wrong?"

Oliver looked up. "Oh, hey there, Harry. No, nothing _wrong,_ really… just… weird."

"Weird how?" Harry asked, sitting on the floor next to the fireplace, trying to get some warmth back in his hands.

"Well, I left my Quidditch bag on the stands of the pitch overnight by accident," Oliver explained, still inspecting his shin pads with a suspicious frown. "I returned to get it this morning, but I saw that my gear was in impeccable condition."

Harry tilted his head in confusion. "Uh… Isn't that a good thing, Oliver?"

Oliver blinked, seemingly coming back to reality. "Oh, yes, no, that isn't a _bad_ thing. Except… that's not how I left it. I mean, not to say my gear was in ruins… but see, look at this. These shin pads don't have a scratch on them!"

Harry leaned forward and saw that, indeed, the shin pads looked immaculate, as though they were newly bought.

"Are you sure they're yours?" Harry asked. "Maybe you grabbed the wrong bag."

Oliver shook his head. "No, no, they're definitely mine. They have my initials carved onto them."

"Oh…" Harry said, racking his brain for another explanation. "Maybe you set some charm on them that has them repaired every once in a while?"

Oliver seemed to think on this. "I haven't set anything on them to my knowledge." He sighed.

"Oh well," he said, shrugging. He smiled suddenly, back to being his easygoing self. "No point worrying over something that isn't exactly a bad thing. Maybe a charm was already set on them when I bought them."

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

The two Gryffindors stayed for a while longer in the common room, talking about Quidditch strategies and the upcoming games. Then, the two parted ways with Harry going upstairs to his dormitory for his nap and Oliver rushing out of the common room when he noticed the Weasley twins coming down from their dorm, lest they ask him more questions that he didn't particularly want to answer.

* * *

Harry yawned at the dinner table, smothering his face with his hand before Hermione could see. He didn't want to worry her with the notion that he wasn't getting enough sleep. Though his nap had been a welcome few hours of rest, for some reason Harry still felt the effects of drowsiness lingering in his body.

"You gotten any work done on that essay, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Ron was in the library with me all afternoon working on his, but we couldn't find you anywhere."

Harry blinked. Potions essay. Right. The one he still hadn't started.

"Yeah, don't worry," he lied through his teeth. "I've started it."

"Good," Hermione said approvingly.

 _All-nighter it is,_ Harry thought to himself begrudgingly. He really had to sort out his work habits if he wanted to make it through the year without fainting in exhaustion.

Oliver appeared suddenly, smiling at Harry as he took the seat in front of him and started piling food on his plate. Harry stifled another yawn. Before he could gather himself to start a conversation with Oliver, he noticed someone behind Oliver, staring at the Gryffindor Quidditch captain intently. Harry was shocked to see that it was Marcus Flint.

 _That's not good,_ Harry thought worriedly. Was the Slytherin captain planning something?

Just as Harry leaned forward to warn Oliver, the doors opened and a big group of Hufflepuffs entered, chatting amongst themselves quite noisily.

Harry saw Cedric Diggory veer off from the group and walk over to the Gryffindor table, towards Oliver. Harry heard Fred and George snickering somewhere to his right.

"Hey, Oliver," Cedric called.

Oliver turned around. When he realized it was Cedric, his cheeks reddened ever so slightly, but Harry caught the change.

"Hey," Oliver replied.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on the win against Ravenclaw," Cedric said, smiling, "You played amazingly."

"Oh," Oliver said, seemingly stunned. "Thank you. Good luck against Slytherin tomorrow."

Cedric's eyes twinkled with mirth as he nodded at his Gryffindor counterpart and left to join the Hufflepuff table.

"Oh he is _so_ into you, dear Ollie," Fred cooed.

"Oh don't you start," Oliver complained. "He just wanted to congratulate the team for the win."

"If he really wanted…" George said.

"…to congratulate us…" Fred continued.

"…on our game…"

"…then he would have congratulated…"

"…the whole team, but he didn't…"

"…which clearly means that…"

"…he likes you, you dope."

"…exactly."

"I hate it when you two do that," Oliver groaned.

Fred chuckled. "Well, that one we practiced, I admit."

"What?" Oliver asked, confused.

"Duh, Ollie," George rolled his eyes. "We knew you and Cedric kissed before you told us. We just wanted to, well…"

"…push you along in the relationship, shall we say."

"Push me – we're not in a relationship of any sort outside Quidditch!" Oliver exclaimed.

"Right…" Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not _yet_ ," George finished.

Oliver groaned and buried his head in his hands as a couple more Gryffindors joined in Fred and George's laughter.

Suddenly, the doors of the Great Hall opened again and in came the group of Slytherins who had been given the day off. They were led by Draco Malfoy, who was flanked by Zabini and Higgs.

Harry found his eyes fixated on Malfoy. He'd changed so much since the year before. This was the first time he'd gotten a good look at him since school had broken up last year for summer.

Malfoy was a lot taller now. He held himself with poise and good stature, obviously expected of a Malfoy. His face had lost any remaining baby fat, and his cheekbones were much more pronounced, almost like they could cut through ice. His eyes were still that familiar stormy grey, though Harry noticed that they had lost the annoying glint that used to be present in them every time he would insult Harry in the past. Malfoy's hair was slicked back, the platinum blond complimenting the color of his skin.

Harry watched as Malfoy walked down the isle of the Great Hall, looking at the way his muscles rippled beneath his white dress shirt which he wore instead of his school robes, which were lain across one shoulder. It was as though Malfoy had shed the child in him, Harry realized. He didn't irritate Harry to the core like he used to. In fact, Malfoy looked rather… rather handsome.

Harry stopped himself before he could manage another thought.

 _Handsome? Malfoy?_ he almost yelled at himself in disbelief.

But it was true. The Slytherin was tall, lean, muscled, strikingly good looking. Harry had never noticed it before. But now the realization was hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water.

 _No,_ he told himself. _You cannot be attracted to Draco bloody Malfoy._


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2! Also, before you wonder how it's even possible to sieve honeywater (you'll know what I'm talking about once you get reading), I just want to say that I have no idea what goes into a calming drought. So just pretend, for the story's sake, that the ingredients I mention totally make sense. :) Also, any formatting advice/tips would be greatly appreciated (as I've mentioned before, I'm new to fanfictoin and also totally technologically impaired). But anyway, I'll leave you to it. xoxo Lacey

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

The first thing Oliver saw when he woke up was the floor. It took him a millisecond more to realize that the floor was approaching him, which could only mean…

"Ouch!" Oliver exclaimed as he fell out of his bed.

He groaned, untangling himself from his blanket, which had followed him during the fall. Percy walked in to see Oliver on the floor, still furiously untangling himself from the duvet, which seemed to be winded across his legs.

"Is it a bad thing that I'm used to this sight of you?" Percy asked, rolling his eyes.

Oliver grinned up at his best friend. "No, not bad at all. Proves that you know me well."

"Too well." Percy chuckled, fetching his wand and casting a spell that untangled Oliver's duvet from his legs. Oliver got up and smiled gratefully at his friend.

"So," Percy began, sitting down at his study and pulling out a book. "Unless you want to miss out on the bacon again, you'd better get down to breakfast."

"Right," Oliver said. He was going to get a good morning meal even if it killed him.

He took the quickest shower of his life and charmed himself dry, quickly shrugging on his uniform.

"Fred and George and a couple of others are still mingling downstairs," Percy said, flipping the page of his book. "Try to catch them before they leave."

Oliver nodded. "You not eating, Perce?"

"I've eaten," Percy said. "I woke up early so I could eat before the morning rush came in. Thought I'd get a couple of hours of revision in before classes start."

Oliver made a face. "Ever the genius, Percy."

"Well, one of us has to be the smart one," Percy said, chuckling to show that he was only jesting.

Oliver knew Percy was right though. He was the brains and Oliver was the… well, the fun and the carefree. And the Quidditch. If Oliver was anything it was good at Quidditch.

When Oliver made it to the foot of the staircase, he saw that Fred and George hadn't left yet. When the twins saw him, however, their eyes widened and they came rushing towards him.

"Oliver! Did you hear?"

"Did I hear what?"

"Cedric Diggory just came out," Fred said, bouncing on his feet.

"What?" Oliver said, shocked. He didn't expect Cedric to come out this quickly. During their last… encounter, Cedric seemed too nervous of the repercussions to even consider coming out. "When?"

"Last night," George explained. "Apparently he told his housemates in the common room before they all went to bed. And by morning, the news had spread like wild fire."

"Oh…" Oliver said, not knowing what else he could say. "Is everyone taking it well?"

"Yes," Fred replied, "Well, the Hufflepuffs were really supportive. And so were the other houses. A couple of disapproving people from Slytherin, but what do you expect?"

Oliver nodded. He'd gotten much of the same treatment. He was glad that Cedric had been accepted. The Hufflepuff had never done anyone any wrong, after all. He didn't deserve to be mistreated for his sexual preference.

"So, Ollie," Fred started again, smiling slyly at his captain. "You going to do anything now that your man is ready for you?"

"Yeah, Ollie," George said, nodding his head eagerly. "Don't you think you should make a move right about, well, say, right now?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, quickly rushing for the door. George threw himself in his way.

"For the last time, he is not _my man_ ," Oliver groaned. "You two are impossible."

"Well, as we said," Fred shrugged. "He's not your man _yet._ "

"Why are you two so intent on getting us together anyway?" Oliver asked, narrowing his eyes.

Fred and George burst into laughter and Oliver rolled his eyes.

"We're not," George said, still laughing. "We just enjoy watching you blush, dear captain."

Oliver sighed and made a last dash to the door, quickly shutting it to the twins' snickers.

* * *

Harry rushed into his Potions classroom, heaving a sigh of relief. He wasn't late, thank Merlin. He couldn't afford to get a detention with all the homework he had piling up and his perpetual tiredness over the last couple of days. Harry took his usual seat next to Ron and stretched in his seat.

Snape appeared at the front of the classroom and wordlessly started to wave his wand, collecting the Potions essay, that was due that day, from each students' bags and laying them in a pile on his desk.

Hermione turned around and gave Harry a look as if to ask, _have you done it?_ Harry smiled at her reassuringly and nodded. He'd been awake almost the whole night working on it. By the last paragraph, he didn't even know if what he was writing was in comprehensible, and he was pretty sure he left off every key point Snape insisted they write about, as he hadn't been bothered to take notes last class and he'd been too afraid to ask Hermione for help.

"So, class," Snape began in a long, drawn-out monotone. "Today you will be brewing the calming drought. I will pair each of you up with a random partner. I expect the potion to be completed by the end of class. The instructions are written on the board behind me. Please have the intelligence to follow these instructions word for word."

Harry groaned. The last thing he needed was to be paired with a Slytherin he couldn't stand. But he knew that he wouldn't be lucky enough to get paired with another Gryffindor. Knowing Snape, he might have rigged the pairings anyway.

"Granger and Longbottom."

Ron glanced at Harry and whispered, "Some people have all the luck." Harry looked down to hide a chuckle. Hermione smiled warmly at Neville as he came and sat next to her.

"Thomas and Bullstrode."

Harry saw Dean pale a little bit before he begrudgingly moved to sit by the big, burly girl. Many students feared Millicent Bullstrode, ever since she pushed a young 1st year student against a wall for accidentally tripping on her.

"Weasley and Greengrass."

Ron's eyes widened impossibly. He didn't move, only sat there with a gob smacked look on his face. Harry kicked him underneath the table.

"Move," Harry whispered.

"What?" Ron said, much too loudly.

"Weasley!" Snape barked. Ron cringed and quickly gathered his things before walking nervously over to where Astoria sat.

Harry cast a quick glance at Hermione. If the bushy-haired girl was upset at all about Ron's eagerness to be paired with the younger Greengrass, she didn't show it. Harry smiled sadly at her, admiring her strength. Meanwhile, Snape continued.

"Crabbe and Brown."

"Parkinson and Patil."

"Zabini and Finnigan."

Seamus looked worried for a moment before he got up to move. Harry glanced back at Zabini, who occupied the seat at the very back of the class. As Seamus sat down next to him, Harry noticed Zabini's mask break for a split second to reveal a small smile.

 _That's odd,_ Harry thought, _I wonder if he's planning someth –_

"Malfoy and Potter."

Harry's eyes widened. _What? No. No, he couldn't be paired with Malfoy. Not… not after yesterday. Not after… Fuck._

Harry nearly jumped out of his seat in surprise when Malfoy appeared next to him. He quickly tried to busy himself with the papers in front of him, pretending to read the notes he'd scratched lazily in his notebook.

He tried to listen intently to Snape as he talked about the calming drought in front of the class, writing as much as he could down. He sighed when ink would barely run properly from his tattered quill. He'd have to buy a new set of quills soon. If he could remember to, that is.

When Snape had finally finished talking, Harry realized he'd have to interact with Malfoy eventually. He raised his head, surprised to see the blond looking at him with something akin to mirth glittering in his grey eyes.

"What are you staring at, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his voice carrying less bite than he was going for.

Malfoy shrugged. "You."

Harry froze. _What? Why would Malfoy say –_

"So, are you going to chop the fluxweed or shall I?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

One side of Malfoy's mouth tugged upwards in a reserved, yet amused smile. "Fluxweed. The first ingredient in a calming drought, Potter. Or would you rather get detention for not completing the potion on time?"

Harry pulled himself together. "I'll chop it."

"All right," Malfoy said. "I'll sieve the honeywater."

They worked in silence for the better part of the rest of class time, though to Harry's surprise, it was a comfortable silence. Malfoy's guidance was reliable and easy to follow, as Harry had never properly brewed the calming drought before. He found that Malfoy's help was unobtrusive and in this case, much needed. Harry snuck looks at Malfoy from time to time, seeing him work, eyes narrowed in concentration, hands moving quickly and precisely, always efficient and practical. When the class period was nearing its end, Harry noticed with a smile that the potion looked good, and it was behaving the way it was supposed to, according to what was written on the board.

Snape tapped his wand on his desk to indicate that the time to brew the potion was over. He then went around the class to inspect each potion one by one.

"Weasley, Longbottom," he drawled, picking up their potion and inspecting it with a frown. "You followed the instructions well. This potion is brewed well. Congratulations," he said, not sounding in the least bit congratulatory.

When Snape was observing Ron and Astoria's drought, Harry noticed his best friend cringing, clearly wanting to impress Astoria desperately… or, at least, not to get them both yelled at.

Snape put the potion down and gave Ron a disapproving look that had the redhead biting his lip in worry.

"Well done, Weasley," Snape said, almost reluctantly. "It seems you decided to try this time."

Ron let out a huge sigh of relief and Astoria gave Ron a thankful smile. Harry saw his best friend return the smile almost dreamily. He chuckled inwardly at Ron's antics.

"Bullstode and Thomas," Snape murmured as he squinted at the bubbling potion, "You didn't cut the eel eyes properly before placing them in the mixture. That caused it to bubble instead of to form a creamy texture. Other than that, however, it's not a Finnigan disaster."

At the back of the class, Seamus blushed wildly. The phrase "Finnigan disaster" was Snape's term used to describe any potion that was horribly brewed beyond fixing. The phrase had been conceived the day Seamus set a love potion on fire, scorching the end of Snape's robes.

As Snape inspected Seamus and Blaise's potion, Seamus looked like he wanted to sink into the ground. Snape let out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a sneer.

"Well, Zabini," he said. "It seems that you've successfully tamed Finnigan's tendency to set things aflame. Congratulations to you."

Seamus let out the breath he'd been holding and shot Zabini a thankful glance.

"Potter and Malfoy," Snape said, picking up their potion. Harry bit his lip. He glanced over at Malfoy, who was looking at Snape calmly, his confidence not wavering one bit.

"You two were able to set your differences aside for an hour, it seems," Snape commented. "Well brewed."

Harry stared in disbelief. This was the first time in a long time Snape hadn't had something derogatory or disapproving to say about a potion he'd brewed. He turned to look at Malfoy, but he had his head down and was scribbling something in his notebook.

"As these pairs seem to suit you well," Snape said, addressing the entire class, "I have decided that you will stay in them for next class' assignment. I have put on each of your desks a parchment with the instructions to brew an aging potion. I expect you all to study these instructions thoroughly, as you will be brewing this potion in the same pairs next class, and I will not provide written instructions on the board next time. As you will have a few days to prepare, I expect you all to be ready. Class dismissed."

As Harry packed his things, he wondered whether he should thank Malfoy. After all, he was spared Snape shouting at him. And Malfoy had been decent to him the whole class.

 _More than decent,_ Harry thought. _He didn't utter a mean thing to me once,_ he realized in wonder.

"Malfoy," Harry called, as the blond was adjusting the strap on his bag.

Malfoy looked up, his icy eyes instantly piercing into Harry's own.

"I – I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?" Malfoy asked, his eyes glinting. Harry could see the touch of amusement there.

"For helping me with the potion," Harry said, shrugging, trying his best to sound nonchalant about it.

"You were my partner," Malfoy replied, smiling now. "If I hadn't helped you, Snape would have yelled at both of us."

"Well, yes, but – "

"You're welcome," Malfoy interrupted, letting out a soft chuckle before walking out of the classroom.

Harry stared at his retreating back in wonder. _What in the world…?_

* * *

Oliver swept the hair out of his eyes as he took a seat next to Alicia Spinnet in the Gryffindor stands of the Quidditch pitch. He looked up to the sky to see the Hufflepuff and Slytherin teams line up, awaiting Madame Hooch's whistle.

It was a clear day. The bright blue sky was mottled with a few lush, white clouds and the birds chirped in crisp, cold air. Oliver was wearing his Gryffindor sweater and a pair of gloves, as his hands were particularly sensitive to the cold. He often attributed it to him wearing keeper's gloves all the time.

Next to him, Alicia offered him a candy, which he took gratefully. He noticed the wrapping around the red mint, recognizing it from one of the stores in Hogsmeade.

When Madame Hooch blew the whistle, the game instantly got off to a fast-paced, aggressive start. Oliver kept an eye on as many players as he could, trying to pinpoint the strengths and weaknesses of them all. Gryffindor would be playing them both soon enough, after all.

After about twenty minutes, the score was 60-50, with Hufflepuff in the lead. That was until Flint snatched the quaffle skillfully off one of the Hufflepuff chasers and dashed away with it, his speed impressing Oliver. _He's gotten better,_ Oliver thought worriedly. Flint, as much as Oliver didn't like to admit, was a formidable opponent in the air. He wasn't a bad beater either, as Oliver knew from experience. The bruises on his face and his abdomen could attest to that.

Flint threw the quaffle to Zabini, who did a 360 degree turn on his broom to avoid Susan Bones and Zacharias Smith of Hufflepuff, before diving and sending the ball back to Flint.

Flint dove again, the fluidity of his movements not lost on Oliver, and turned quickly to shoot the quaffle into the nearest hoop. His shot had such power that even if the Hufflepuff keeper had been close, Oliver doubted he would have been able to catch it.

As Flint flew by the Gryffindor stands, wrestling with a Hufflepuff chaser for the quaffle. Oliver saw the blaze of passion in his eyes. It was filled with intensity and every emotion Oliver could associate with Quidditch. Anger, frustration, excitement, exhilaration… Oliver recognized the glint in his archrival's eyes as the glint in his own eyes whenever someone even mentioned Quidditch. As Flint flew off, having won the quaffle from the Hufflepuff chaser, Oliver couldn't help but think, _He's a great flyer._ Oliver found himself watching Flint as he twisted and turned, bypassing bludgers and oncoming chasers. Many people often pointed out Flint's roughness, his stocky build and his lack of grace… but watching him now, Oliver could see he was nothing if not graceful in the air. He was powerful, but not in the rough, unlikeable way.

Oliver's thoughts were interrupted by a loud string of commentary by Lee Johnson.

"He's seen it! Cedric Diggory has seen the snitch! There he goes! Oh! Higgs has seen it too, now, and is racing after him! Diggory's still going, Higgs on his tail, oh this is going to be a close one! Wait, no, Flint has just aimed a bludger towards Diggory! It's gaining on him…"

Oliver's heart clenched when he saw the bludger cannoning right towards Cedric's head. He knew from experience that that would leave a nasty bruise, if not a minor concussion.

Thankfully, Cedric looked up just in time and swerved to the left, straight into Higgs, who twisted and turned to stay on his broom. The bludger, having missed its intended target, dashed off in a random direction.

The crowd sighed in relief, except for those on the Slytherin stand who hurled insults Cedric's way. Oliver could only shake his head in slight amusement. Quidditch was an emotional sport, no doubt.

But why did Flint show so much resentment towards Diggory? Oliver wondered. He looked up and saw that Flint had cursed out loud when the bludger had missed Cedric.

And then Oliver realized. _Was it because Cedric was gay?_ His eyes widened in anger at this. How dare he? To treat someone badly just because they'd come out… Unbelievable.

Just then, Oliver looked up and saw none other than the snitch bouncing in the sky above the Gryffindor stands. A couple of other Gryffindors realized this too and started to murmur in excitement.

This time Higgs saw it first and zipped towards it. Cedric, who'd caught on a couple of moments later, dashed towards it too. Oliver glanced up at the snitch, which was right above him by now, but the sun blinded him, so he had to shy away from watching the golden ball.

The two seekers were now rushing towards the snitch from opposite directions, so it was hard to tell who would reach it first.

The next few moments happened in a flurry of robes and brooms and screeches. The two seekers crashed into one another as they both reached out to grab at the snitch. But while Higgs was sent sprawling in the air until he hit the nearest viewing tower, Cedric fell off his broom and landed…

"Oliver!" Cedric exclaimed in delight when he realized the hands he'd been caught by. Or, rather, the hands he'd fallen into.

Oliver could only smile at the fierce joy in Cedric's eyes as his right hand clutched the snitch tightly. In the distance Oliver could hear Lee Johnson proclaiming Hufflepuff the winner of the match.

Soon, the Gryffindor stands were infiltrated with excited Hufflepuffs, all rushing towards Cedric to congratulate him for winning the match for them. Oliver glanced at the Slytherin team and saw the lithe frame of Blaise Zabini dismounting his broom. He looked positively murderous, though Oliver recognized the look as one of self-loathing. He recognized it all too well. He'd often blamed himself whenever his team lost, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that that was never the case. It was always a team effort.

Oliver quickly made to leave to let the Hufflepuffs celebrate amongst themselves. Just as he was stepping down from the bleachers, a hand grabbed at his arm.

"Oliver, wait!" Cedric called.

Oliver insisted that he let the Hufflepuff players celebrate, as it wasn't his place to be there. Hufflepuff deserved their moment.

"No," Cedric insisted in return. "I want to celebrate with you here."

Oliver found that he couldn't deny the gray-eyed boy, especially after he'd just heroically caught the snitch for his team. And so Oliver stayed for the next half hour, surrounded by ecstatic Hufflepuffs. Oliver was nervous at first that he would be seen as an intruder, but it soon became clear that Cedric's hand in his own convinced any Hufflepuff to treat him as a friend. He got many random hugs from yellow-robed players and students. Cedric glanced at him from time to time, smiling brightly. Oliver found himself laughing, joining in the joy around him.

A flash of green and silver robes caught his eye and he looked up to the sky. He saw Marcus Flint staring right at him with an unreadable expression. Oliver held his gaze for a moment before being jostled by a couple of Hufflepuffs as they made their way across the stands. When he looked up again, Flint was gone.

* * *

Seamus groaned as he looked at the clock. 2:30AM. Great.

He was sat alone in the library with his charms essay lying on the table before him. It was due the next day, and Seamus was, quite simply, screwed. He knew he should have started on it earlier, but he thought he would have enough time to finish it tonight.

He looked at the number of words he still had to write before he reached the minimum word count. 2351. His head hit the table in front of him. He couldn't do it. He'd be up all night and right into breakfast.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startled him out of his miserable thoughts. He was surprised to see Blaise Zabini leaning on one of the bookcases.

"Struggling there, Finnigan?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Uh," Seamus began, slightly dazed from lack of sleep. "Yeah, this charms essay is killing me."

Zabini strode over and pulled a chair to sit on beside Seamus. He looked over some of the coursework laid out on the table.

"What are you stuck on?" he asked.

Seamus blinked, not knowing what to make of the Slytherin's actions.

"Um, the feather-light charm," he admitted, "I don't have enough information about it to write nearly as much as I need to on it."

Zabini looked at him then, surprising Seamus with the intensity in his deep brown eyes. He tried his best to hold his own, tried not to waver under that stare.

"I could help you," Zabini said simply.

"Wh-what?" Seamus stuttered. Why was Zabini, of all people, offering to help him? Sure, they had been potions partners, but surely that didn't extend to helping one another outside the classroom.

"I did a whole essay on the feather-light charm in my second year," Zabini continued, unfazed.

"In your second year?" Seamus exclaimed. "But that's a higher level charm."

Zabini shrugged. "What do you expect from someone with parents who make them bring twice as much luggage as is needed for a regular school year? I learned the charm in my first year."

Seamus could only stare at the Slytherin, amazed.

"But, it's really late," he said, glancing at the clock again. Why was Zabini even awake at this hour? Didn't Slytherins need their vanity sleep? "Are you sure you want to…help?

Zabini shrugged again. "Now, Finnigan, why would I offer if I didn't?"

Seamus nodded. "Okay. Um. Thanks."

"All right, let's get started, then…"

* * *

Harry groaned as he checked his bag one more time, spilling out its contents before sorting through them in frustration. He got up again and went to his study desk, flipping through the papers on it.

"Merlin, where is that damn thing?" he cursed.

Ron walked in, catching what Harry had just said.

"Hey, mate," he greeted. "Lost something?"

Harry sighed, giving up on his fruitless search. "Yeah, that stupid parchment Snape gave us with the aging potion instructions. I don't know where I put it."

"Oh, you can always share mine," Ron offered, "Or you can get 'Mione to duplicate mine so you can have one of your own."

Harry smiled, grateful for his friend's efforts, though he knew none of those options would work, as Snape would know if Harry didn't bring the original with him the following class.

"Thanks, Ron," he said, smiling, "But I think Snape would see through those tricks."

He looked through his bag one last time, this time with Ron helping him, but the boys found nothing, concluding that Harry had either dropped it on his way back to the common room or had misplaced it somewhere in the mess that was the dorm room.

"Oh well," Harry shrugged.

"Don't worry 'bout it, mate," Ron said. "I'm sure it'll turn up soon. Want to play a game of chess to get your mind off it?"

"Sure," Harry nodded as he followed Ron downstairs into the common room.

The two boys entered the room in time to see Oliver rush in, trying unsuccessfully to shake off the Weasley twins, who were hot on his tail.

"Will you two please _stop_ asking me every question that pops into your heads?" Oliver complained, his voice desperate.

"Well, Ollie, we're only asking you about Cedric…"

"…and in fact we're not even _asking…_ "

"…we're merely trying to tell you…"

"…that we think you and Ced…"

"…are a great couple…"

"…that's all."

"For the last time," Oliver said, shaking as he tried to calm himself down. "And by last time, I do mean _last time,_ before I kick you both off the team. Cedric and I are not a couple."

"That's not what all the Hufflepuffs are saying," Fred winked.

"Yeah, holding hands after his win, eh?" George continued.

Oliver groaned. When he caught sight of Harry and Ron, he rushed over to them.

"You!" he pointed at Ron. "Good. Make them go away. Please."

Ron laughed, casting Oliver a sympathetic glance. He quickly ushered Fred and George upstairs, claiming to have gotten a parcel from their parents.

Oliver sighed in relief, collapsing on the sofa. Harry chuckled, sitting down next to him.

"Rough day?"

Oliver smiled thankfully at Harry's concern. "You could say that."

"I heard about you and Ced," Harry said, careful not to sound too nosy so as not to irritate Oliver all over again.

"Yeah," Oliver said, sighing, though Harry didn't know whether it was from content or weariness.

"Are you two together?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Oliver admitted, running a hand through his hair. "We haven't really talked about it. I mean, I don't even know what I feel for him yet, you know? I don't even know if I like him that way. But he's a nice guy, and I'm not about to turn him away just because I can't sort out my own feelings…" he trailed off, glancing worriedly at Harry, wondering if he'd said too much.

Thankfully, Harry was smiling down at him in understanding. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But Ced's being good to you, right?"

"Yeah," Oliver said, a warm smile spreading across his face. "He is."

"For the last time, you imbecile, I need to give this to Harry Potter!"

Harry's head shot up at the voice coming from outside. He recognized it. Harry went over to the entrance of the common room and looked outside. He was surprised to see Malfoy standing there, scowling slightly at the Fat Lady, holding himself with the poise and dignity Harry associated with him.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Malfoy looked at him, his eyes glittering with annoyance before softening.

"Finally, Potter. This ridiculous portrait wouldn't let me in."

The Fat Lady tut tut-ed at Malfoy, who cast her a withering glare.

"Why did you want to be let in?" Harry asked, confused.

"To give you this," Malfoy said, taking something out of his robe pockets.

Harry's eyes widened as he recognized the aging potion parchment being placed in his hands.

"How?" he asked, not knowing how else to formulate the thousands of questions he wanted to ask.

"You left it in the classroom this morning," Malfoy shrugged, his eyes glinting again with the amusement Harry had now almost been accustomed to. "I thought you might want to start studying it tonight."

"Oh…" Harry said.

"Eloquent as always, Potter," Malfoy smirked.

Harry blushed. "Um… thank you."

"Again, you're welcome," Malfoy said.

Harry's mind was swirling with confusion. _Why would Malfoy do something nice for me?_ he wondered. _He hates me._

Then Harry realized that Malfoy hadn't treated him badly since the year had started. Why was that? There were too many questions running through Harry's mind. As he looked at Malfoy, who looked back at him, calm and unfazed, he didn't know what to say to the blond.

"Well, before any Gryffindors question my intentions in their tower, I'd best take my leave," Malfoy said finally, letting out a silent chuckle, almost to himself. "Evening, Potter."

Harry stared at Malfoy as he walked away. It was a long time before he moved from where he stood at the entrance to the common room.

* * *

When Harry returned to the common room late that night after a midnight trip to the kitchens to steal some scones, he tiptoed as quietly as he good, as he realized it was way past curfew.

As he was about to walk up the stairs to his dorm, a sound stopped him in his tracks. It was the sound of someone sobbing.

Harry walked towards the source of the sound, his wand at the ready. He knew the castle was safe, but he also knew that you could never be too cautious. But when he recognized the bushy-haired girl curled up in a blanket on the sofa next to the fireplace, Harry rushed over.

"'Mione!" he gasped, gathering the crying girl into his arms. It was a while before she could calm her sobs, and Harry held her tightly, almost afraid to let go. Seeing his friend so upset almost made his heart break.

When Hermione had calmed down a little, she wiped at her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked finally. He'd never seen Hermione like this.

"Oh…oh, nothing," Hermione hiccupped. "Just me being silly."

"Come on, 'Mione," Harry insisted gently. "You know you can tell me anything."

Hermione sighed, nodding. She was silent for a few more moments.

"Ron asked Astoria to Hogsmeade."

Harry's heart instantly broke for his friend. He knew how much Hermione cared for Ron, evident in every concern she had for him, every gentle chide, every disapproving stare. She always wanted to protect him, to help him, and Ron was just the king of obliviousness.

"'Mione," Harry whispered, rubbing his friend's back as she shivered. "I'm so sorry. He'll come to his senses. I know he will."

Hermione shook her head sadly.

"No… No, he won't," she said softly. "I know that now. I guess I always just hoped he would, though, you know? I always hoped he'd notice that I… that I'm here and that… that I care. He's always complaining about not having a girl there, a girl who cares for him, a girl who'd do anything for him… But I… Am I that invisible to him?"

She broke into gentle sobs again and Harry quickly embraced her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, trying to soothe her the best he could. He stayed there with her for a long time, holding her into the night. He couldn't leave her, even when she insisted he get some rest. He stayed with her until she fell asleep in his arms, before carrying her up to her dorm room, where he laid her in her bed under the blankets. She would have done the same for him, he knew. He could only pray that Ron would realize Hermione's feelings for him soon. Hermione didn't deserve this much pain.

* * *

Hey y'all. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Just a quick note: I know I said I'd be updating once every week, but I've got so much of this story already written, so updates will probably be more frequent. When I say I've got so much of it written, I really mean _so much._ Haha. But anyway, I'm just going to post whenever I can, regardless of how many people are reading this story (though I really really appreciate those who have reviewed/favorited/followed already!). I was initially going to post it all at once tbh, but I kind of wanted there to be a certain element of suspense for readers (even if it's only in two-or-three-day intervals). On the other hand I really want to get to a point where everything I've written has been posted, at which point the rest of the story actually _hasn't_ been written and the intervals will be actual writing intervals. I feel like that will motivate me to write (now I've stopped because I don't want to write any more chapters while I'm posting this all up).

Jeez, what a rant. Wow Lacey. Get it together. Sorry if none of that made sense. It's 2AM and I've just gotten home from literally 7 hours at the library.

The point is, I'll probably be posting more frequently. So don't be alarmed. :)

xoxo Lacey


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Wake up, birthday boy!"

"Harry! Happy birthday!"

"Get that head off that pillow, mate!"

Harry opened his eyes, still bleary with slumber, and saw the smiling faces of Ron and Hermione beside his bed. A slow smile spread across his lips as he stretched his limbs, getting up to sit on his bed.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed, suddenly hugging Harry. Hermione swiftly followed and soon Harry was enveloped in a tight embrace by his two best friends.

"Guys…" he blurted out. "Can't…breathe…"

Ron and Hermione let go instantly, still smiling down at him.

"Did you sleep well?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded and this time he wasn't lying. He'd gotten the best sleep he'd had in a while, and hadn't woken up once in the night. Maybe it was some strange good luck on the night of his birthday.

"Good," Ron said. "We can't have you asleep on your feet when you have so many presents to open."

Harry glanced down at the floor of his dorm room and widened his eyes at the sight. Laid out around his bed were a large handful of presents, all wrapped in colorful, glittering paper, begging to be opened.

"Fred and George came around a while ago," Hermione explained. "They'd gathered all the presents from the Gryffindor students and laid them around your bed. Isn't that nice of them?"

Harry nodded, thinking fondly of the two redheads. Though their mischievousness could be misplaced sometimes – well, a lot of the time – they still had hearts of gold when it came down to it all.

"We had to blackmail them into not waking you up with a bucket of ice water, though," Ron admitted, grinning.

Harry chuckled. "What did you use as blackmail?"

Ron laughed. "Never you mind."

"Anyway," Ron continued, "First present's first."

With that, he held up from below Harry's line of sight a big, circular chocolate cake, decorated with edible designs, engraved with the words _Happy Birthday, Harry!._ The top of the cake had been enchanted to depict Harry himself flying in the air on his Quidditch broom. Harry hadn't seen anything like it. And he could see from where he was sitting that the frosting was made of peanut butter, one of his favorite flavors. The cake smelled to die for, as though it had just come out of the oven.

"Whoa!" Harry exclaimed. "Who – "

"My mother," Ron explained, grinning madly.

"That's lovely, Ron!" Harry said, remembering Mrs. Weasley with a fond smile on his face. He really missed her. He missed the Burrow as a whole. "I'll send her an owl to say thank you as soon as I can."

"No problem, mate," Ron said. "She insisted."

"All right," Ron continued, as Harry eyed the presents on the floor, trying to decipher whose was whose. He had a sneaking suspicion that Lavender was behind the one wrapped in glittery soft pink paper, and he knew George and Fred had wrapped theirs identically in bright orange, with crude but funny pictures depicting Harry himself on the surfaces.

"Next present's the best," Ron said, grinning. Hermione's smile brightened too at this. It was obviously the one from them both.

Hermione handed over a medium-sized, beautifully wrapped box to Harry. Harry saw how carefully it had been wrapped – obviously Hermione's handiwork. He smiled gratefully at them before unwrapping it, taking care not to massacre the wrapping paper completely.

When he'd opened it, he saw a beautiful gold chain attached to an oval-shaped locket. One side of the locket had his initials carved delicately in a cursive hand, while the other side had the Gryffindor emblem. He opened the locket to find that one side was a picture of Harry, Ron and Hermione, all of them laughing joyfully at something Ron had just said. Harry recognized the picture as having been taken on the Quidditch pitch last year, as wind was blowing through their hair and they were looking up eagerly at the sky.

The picture on the other side of the locket, however, put instant tears in Harry's eyes. It was an old picture of Harry as a baby in his mother's arms, with his father standing beside them, staring at his family lovingly. He placed a soft kiss on Lily's cheek before they both looked at the camera again, their eyes glittering with happiness.

The tears fell before Harry could stop them.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, her face twisted in concern.

Harry quickly tried to recover. "No, no, 'Mione," Harry insisted, knowing that Hermione had misinterpreted his tears. "I'm crying out of joy. I mean, this is the best present I've ever gotten. Really. I don't know what I've done to deserve friends like you, honestly. I'm so grateful."

Hermione smiled immediately, taking Harry into her arms. Harry was happy that his friend was better now, considering their encounter in the common room at midnight a few nights before. Being ever the Gryffindor and ever the Hermione Granger, she was back to her normal self ever since, and Harry admired her resilience.

Ron also smiled down at Harry. "What you've done to deserve us is be the best friend in the world, someone I'd be proud to call a brother. Someone I already do consider family."

Harry glanced tearfully up at Ron, his eyes trying to convey how much his statement meant to him. His friends were amazing.

 _Are you prepared to lose them when you come out?_ a menacing voice threatened in his mind.

 _Oh, don't be ridiculous,_ he argued to himself. _You won't lose them. Stop thinking that._

But Harry couldn't help the pang of worry he felt whenever he thought of coming out to Ron and Hermione. He didn't want things to change between them. It was perfect as it was. Besides, he had no pressing reason to come out. He had no lover, no plans to pursue one… Yes, he could wait. For now, at least.

* * *

Harry walked into Potions to see Malfoy seated in Ron's usual seat. He remembered that he'd be working with the blond again. Harry sat down next to him, trying to control his breathing. Malfoy looked good today. Really good. Harry had noticed his lithe form walking to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall that morning and couldn't help but admire the way his movements seemed to flow out of him in precise and elegant strides, the way his eyes glittered like marble when he leaned over to say something to Zabini.

Harry tried to calm himself. The attraction was getting out of hand, and it was partly because Malfoy hadn't irritated Harry even in the slightest so far this year. As a result, Harry found his attraction growing rather than being snuffed out by the usual hatred he felt for the boy.

"All right, class," Snape began as he surveyed the class. "As you know, you will be brewing the aging potion today. As you have had a few days to prepare, I expect this potion to be completed by the end of the class and to an immaculate standard. Begin."

Harry and Malfoy went to work, much the same as the class before. Harry followed Malfoy's calm instructions when he needed to, as Malfoy seemed to have memorized the parchment word for word while Harry had merely skimmed through the instructions quickly a couple times before bed the night before.

When class ended, instead of inspecting the potions one by one, Snape waved his wand, and each potion was lifted into the air and sorted into vials, which were then sorted into the cabinet behind him for later evaluation.

Harry sighed in relief. Another Potions class out of the way. He made to grab his things when a voice stopped him.

"Harry," Malfoy called.

Harry looked up, startled. He again felt himself plunged into the grey depths of Malfoy's eyes. They were so piercing, so icy and yet strangely warm, that they had Harry pinned to his seat. And then he realized. Did Malfoy just call him by his first name?

"Since when is it Harry?" he asked, his tone more curious than irritated, reflecting his emotions perfectly.

Malfoy let out a surprise laugh, not bothering to hide it. "That is your name, isn't it?"

Harry looked at him, stunned.

"Here," Malfoy continued, handing Harry a small box, "This is for you."

Harry looked over at what he'd been given. He knew almost at once that it was a quill set. Five pristine, silver-lined quills lay in the box with a pot of ink next to them, engraved with dark maroon lettering.

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

Malfoy tilted his head ever so slightly. He gestured at the box of quills.

"It's for you," he explained. "From me."

Harry's eyes widened almost impossibly. _What? What was Malfoy on about? Giving him a quill set out of the blue? How did he even know Harry needed one?_

"Why?" Harry asked dumbly, staring at Malfoy in puzzlement.

Malfoy shrugged, looking nonchalant.

"You clearly need one, seeing as your current quills are capable of producing nothing better than scratches," he said simply.

Harry's confusion finally found its voice. "But why are you giving this to me? Why do you care if I write scratches? You hate me."

Malfoy clicked his tongue. "Hate is _such_ a strong word, Potter," he said. "We're past that petty schoolboy phase, surely?"

"Petty schoolboy – what are you on about, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his tone rising as confusion turned to frustration. "I just don't understand why you'd bother getting me this. You're not my friend. You're not even… anything. I don't know."

Harry instantly regretted his words when they'd left his mouth. Malfoy's expression seemed to change, though not into one of anger or accusation. Harry couldn't quite place what had shifted in the blonde's eyes.

After a moment, Malfoy shrugged. Harry found himself staring at the soft but purposeful rise of his shoulders.

"It is your birthday, is it not?" Malfoy asked, his voice still as composed and unfazed as ever. "Call it a birthday present. It's only common courtesy."

Before Harry could open his mouth and formulate a reply, Malfoy had walked out the door. Harry found himself wanting to call him back. He found himself wanting to call him back… and kiss him. He froze at the thought, but no inner voice in his mind could deny it. He wanted to kiss Draco Malfoy, for some odd, undecipherable reason, be it attraction or sheer fascination. He stared at the quill box in his hands, his mind spinning with unshed emotions. Emotions he couldn't even identify. What was this feeling?

* * *

Oliver spun around and raced towards one of the Quidditch hoops, quickly snatching the quaffle out of the sky as he'd done numerous times before. He turned back and shot the quaffle back to its thrower.

"Nice one, Oliver," Cedric called, smiling.

Oliver flew towards him.

"What was that?" he asked above the wind. "Didn't catch you there."

Cedric chuckled. "Nothing. I was just saying nice catch."

Oliver smiled at the seeker. They'd been on the pitch for more than an hour now, just practicing shots and saves and reveling in each other's company. Oliver was having a good time, just letting his worries slide, as he usually did.

But now, watching Cedric fly around the pitch, quaffle in grip, he found his thoughts catching up to him. He still hadn't sorted out his feelings for the Hufflepuff… if there _were_ any true feelings to begin with. Sure, he felt excited and nervous at the same time when Cedric was around him, but he still wasn't sure if those feelings stemmed from his own hidden feelings for Cedric, or if they arose because of his lack of knowledge about what to do because he _had_ no feelings for Cedric. At least, not in that way.

The boy was everything a perfect boyfriend would be. He was strong, reliable, courteous, fun, playful, considerate, fair… Oliver knew he should be head over heels for the boy. But something was stopping him, and he didn't know what it was. It was as though something was missing. After all, if you truly liked someone… didn't you just _know_?

Another image flashed across Oliver's mind, one of blazing eyes… green and silver robes… Oliver stopped himself. _What? Why are you thinking of_ him _? Of all people…_

Suddenly Oliver noticed Cedric fly towards him, a bright smile gracing his beautiful lips. He flew close to Oliver and Oliver suddenly felt Cedric's hot breath on his neck.

Cedric chuckled. "Hi."

Oliver smiled, his heart racing before he could stop it. "Hello."

And then Oliver couldn't help himself. He tilted his head up until his nose was almost touching Cedric's. A rush of desire coursed through him – Cedric was an attractive boy, after all, and Oliver _did_ like him. He just didn't know how much, or if it was enough.

The more dominant side of Oliver's brain clicked into action then.

 _Oh, screw it,_ he thought as he caught Cedric by the lips in a soft kiss.

Cedric kissed back instantly, his hands finding the small of Oliver's back, pulling him closer. Oliver moaned as Cedric's tongue swept across his bottom lip before delving gently into his mouth, his tongue dueling with Oliver's own. Oliver found himself smiling into the kiss, lifting a hand to run through Cedric's dirty blond hair.

As the two captains kissed in the middle of the Quidditch field, wrapped up in each other, none of them noticed Marcus Flint watching them from behind the stands, looking positively murderous; nor did they notice the single tear Flint wiped roughly from his cheek before stalking away.

* * *

Harry walked up the staircase to the Gryffindor tower, cursing to himself. He'd gotten a strict talking-to by Professor Flitwick after he managed to set the professor's desk on fire by accident in his attempt to master a charm.

Now he was mentally exhausted, and all he wanted to do was curl up in bed for what he believed was a well-deserved nap. Just as he looked up, he collided head-first into another student, sending his bag and books sprawling across the staircase. Harry sighed and immediately bent down to pick them up.

When he looked up to see who he'd bumped into, he was surprised to see Blaise Zabini staring down at him in amusement.

"Zabini," Harry said, his voice neutral. "What are you doing here?"

Zabini chuckled softly, though his eyes held a glint of superiority. "Do you Gryffindors claim to own this tower of Hogwarts?"

Harry rolled his eyes and continued gathering his books from where they had tumbled down the stairs. To his surprise, Zabini leaned down to pick some of his things off the floor.

Harry sighed. Why were all the Slytherins suddenly acting so out of character? Only last year, Zabini would laugh at him and step over him as Harry gathered his books off the ground. Now Zabini was crouching down with him, though he held himself with slightly more poise.

"I just meant that we rarely see Slytherins on this side of the castle," Harry explained after a moment of silence.

Zabini shrugged, handing Harry another of his books. "I came around to talk to Finnigan, but he wasn't here."

Harry did a double take, almost dropping the book he'd been handed. "You came here to talk to Seamus?"

Zabini nodded simply, and Harry felt that that would be as much as an answer he could get from the Slytherin. He made a mental note to ask Seamus about it later. He knew the two were potions partners, but he didn't know they were on talking terms. _Well, no one would expect Malfoy to be on a first name basis with you either, would they?_ Harry shook his head to himself. There were too many people behaving oddly for Harry to make sense of it all.

"Say," Zabini said, having picked up the quill set Draco had gotten him. "That's a fancy set you got there. You can only get that kind in my area of the Wizarding world."

Harry took a closer look at the quill set, noticing the quality of the engravings on each quill and the shining metal of each tip. They looked expensive – certainly not something one could find in Hogsmeade.

"Yeah," Harry said, trying to sound blasé about it, "Malfoy gave it to me."

"I know," Zabini answered quickly. Harry looked up at him in surprise at this.

"Uh," Harry began, stuttering again in the face of his own confusion about the blonde boy. "Do you happen to know _why_ he gave them to me?"

Zabini surprised Harry with a low chuckle, which he smothered with a delicately placed hand. "You mean to say, Potter, that haven't figured it out yet?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and shook his head in confusion. "Figured what out yet?"

Zabini smirked. "Draco was right, you are oblivious."

Before Harry could respond, Zabini got up to his feet, brushing invisible dust from his robes. Harry got up too, adjusting the strap on his bag.

"He got it for you, Potter," Blaise said, his eyes twinkling, "'Cause he likes you."

Harry could only stare at Zabini. _What had he said?_

"Well, see you around, Potter," Zabini said over his shoulder as he walked down the stairs and disappeared.

Harry stood there, stunned. Malfoy liked him? He –

It all made sense all of a sudden. Malfoy's change in personality towards Harry, his patience, his kindness, his lack of cruel behavior. The way Malfoy had given Harry his parchment back, the way he'd noticed Harry's need for a new quill set, the way his eyes sparkled every time he looked at Harry…

Harry found himself short of breath. _Is it possible?_ he thought, finding that he wanted it to be true. Badly. _Is it possible that Malfoy likes me?_

 _Why would Zabini lie, though?_ he reasoned with himself.

 _But what reason would he have to necessarily tell you the truth, either?_ another voice piped up. Zabini was a Slytherin after all.

Despite the voices arguing inside his mind, Harry couldn't help but hope it was true. He smiled, thinking of Malfoy's eyes again and how they glittered like stones, how they bore into his own with an intensity that gripped Harry's heart.

* * *

Later that day, Harry was waiting for the staircases to move so he could return to the Gryffindor common room. He was exhausted from a hard day of work. His earlier nap hadn't done much to relieve him of his seemingly perpetual tiredness.

"Hey," came a voice to his left.

Harry turned around and was shocked to see Daphne Greengrass staring back at him, her blue eyes glittering. She was quite stunning, Harry had to admit.

"Oh, hey," he said nervously, wondering if she meant to be speaking to him. He had never interacted with her before apart from last year when he accidentally stepped on her robe as he was walking along a corridor.

"You look dazed," she replied brightly, clearly amused. "And I think you just missed your staircase."

Harry turned around and saw that he had indeed missed the Gryffindor staircase. He sighed. He'd have to wait for it to come around again.

"Yeah," he said, letting out a nervous chuckle. "Guess I am a bit dazed."

"Don't worry," Daphne said, flashing him a giggle. "It's cute."

Harry's eyes widened, not knowing how to respond.

"Well, see you round, Harry," Daphne said as she mounted the staircase that took her down to the dungeons.

Harry shook his head. _What was that all about?_ He decided not to worry too much about it.

When Harry finally reached the common room, he noticed that it was empty except for a couple of first-years. He went to his dorm room to find Ron perched on his bed, reading a letter in his hands with a frown on his face. Hermione and Oliver were there too.

"Hey," Harry said nervously, afraid that he was interrupting something. "What's that?"

Hermione looked at Harry, a small smile on her face. "Charlie Weasley just came out."

Harry stared at her in amazement, willing her to explain.

She did. "He's at the Burrow now. He just told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. He wrote a letter to his brothers and Ginny. Ron just got his while he was out on the Quidditch field with Oliver, here."

Harry nodded, showing that he understood. He didn't know Charlie Weasley was gay. Then again, he wasn't particularly close to the second-eldest Weasley.

He looked at Ron, who seemed to be reading the letter over and over again, muttering things quietly to himself. Would Ron accept Charlie? Harry wondered worriedly, as his heart beat with the suspense. Harry saw that on the other side of the room, Oliver was biting his lip, obviously having the same worry. Oliver and Charlie had been close, after all, during the redhead's time at Hogwarts, both on and off the Quidditch field.

When Ron raised his head, Harry looked at him, his eyes wide with expectancy and nerves. He hoped Ron didn't notice.

"Are you okay, Ron?" Hermione asked softly.

To Harry's relief, Ron broke into an easy grin. "Yeah, yeah," he reassured the three other people in his room. "Sorry 'bout that, guys. I guess it just took me by surprise is all."

"So you're okay with it?" Harry asked Ron, trying to keep the note of hopefulness out of his voice.

"Yeah," Ron assured him, "I guess it's just a lot to take in after Cedric's coming out, you know."

When Oliver looked down at his hands at Ron's statement, Ron quickly made to correct himself.

"Not that I mind," he said. "I'm completely fine with it. I've nothing people being gay. As I said, it just came as a surprise."

Oliver smiled at that, as did Harry and Hermione.

Harry inwardly let out a sigh of relief. _Thank Merlin,_ he thought.

 _Well, you can't very well come out right away after Cedric and Charlie,_ a voice reasoned in his mind, and he knew it was right. _That would be way too much for Ron to handle. I'll wait a while longer, when this news has died down._

Harry smiled, content with his plan.

Suddenly the four Gryffindors heard commotion coming from the common room.

"What's up, you think?" Ron asked.

"Oh, they're probably all talking about the ball," Oliver said.

"What ball?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, there's this ball for 6th and 7th years in a couple days. Apparently it's going to be one of the events of the season," Oliver explained.

"Just for 6th and 7th years?" Harry asked curiously.

Oliver nodded apologetically. "Yeah, sorry guys," he said, as Ron, Hermione and Harry were only in their 4th year. "Unless any of you do get asked to the ball by someone from 6th or 7th year, of course."

Ron grinned. "You going with Cedric then, mate?"

Oliver blushed, quickly turning away to hide it. "Oh, I don't know. We haven't talked about it."

The other three chuckled, knowing that it was only a matter of time before either Cedric asked Oliver or Oliver gave in and asked the Hufflepuff.

A few moments later, Oliver got down from where he'd been perched on Dean's dresser.

"Well, I'm off to the Quidditch field," Oliver said. "It's still a couple hours before dark."

Harry, Hermione and Ron nodded, bidding goodbye to the keeper as he disappeared down the staircase. As Harry watched Oliver's retreating back, he suddenly had the urge to confide in the older boy. After all, who would understand better than Oliver about Harry's sexuality? Harry desperately needed someone to talk to. Someone who'd understand. And he knew he couldn't talk to his best friends. At least, not yet. Maybe Oliver was Harry's best option right now.

When the keeper had left, Harry looked at his two friends then, smiling in relief. He felt a lot better now, about a lot of things.

* * *

Oliver made his way to the Great Hall that evening for dinner after showering in the locker rooms. He'd been on the pitch for about two hours, just flying around, working on his speed and agility. He loved flying. If he knew he could just skip meals and classes, he'd be flying all day and all night.

Oliver had also realized in his hours of practice that his Quidditch gear was still in immaculate shape, despite him suffering a few knocks on the stands as he flew around the pitch. Every time he'd come out of a rough collision, he would look at his gear and see that it was still in pristine quality. Not one scratch graced the leather or the metal. Oliver knew he should be suspicious of this strange development, but his carefree side always won, insisting that it was ridiculous to be suspicious of something that would obviously save him a lot of effort and money when it came to repairing his gear.

As Oliver rounded the corner to the Great Hall, he was suddenly pulled into an empty classroom to his left. He shook his head, dazed, as he made out his surroundings. He immediately smiled when he came face to face with a smiling Cedric.

"Hey," he greeted the Hufflepuff with a smile.

"Hey," Cedric replied, grinning. "Sorry I pulled you in like that. I just… wanted to get you alone."

Oliver smiled as Cedric took his hand, recognizing the familiar jolts of desire that pricked at his spine. He pulled Cedric in instinctively, smiling as the younger boy's smile brightened.

Gently, Cedric cupped Oliver's face and leaned in for a kiss. Oliver flushed crimson as the length of Cedric's body pressed up against him. His hand gripped the back of Cedric's head as Cedric deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the depths of Oliver's mouth. Oliver moaned as he ran his hands down Cedric's clothed arms, gripping the strong muscle he found underneath.

Cedric's hands roamed into Oliver's robes, and Oliver gasped when Cedric touched his bare chest.

Suddenly Cedric stopped his movements, backing away from Oliver.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked, breathless.

"Nothing!" Cedric insisted, hurriedly. Oliver noticed how intoxicating the boy looked, his lips the color of cherry blossoms, parted and raw, his hair disheveled and his cheeks flushed.

Cedric hurried to explain himself in a mumbled rant. "I mean, not that it wasn't good. It was… It was really good. So good. But… I mean, I mean that wasn't what I wanted to do. I mean, of course I wanted to do it, but I wanted to ask you something before doing that… but then you… and you're so… and I…"

Oliver chuckled at Cedric's nervousness. "What?"

"I… I wanted to ask you to the ball," Cedric said, biting his lip and looking at Oliver hopefully.

Oliver looked at Cedric, his thoughts running wild in his mind. He nearly smacked himself for not realizing that _of course_ that had been what Cedric wanted to ask him. He felt guilty about not popping the question first, as he was the older of the two. But Oliver had always been held back by his confusion about his feelings, or rather, lack of, for the Hufflepuff. Sure, he liked his company, he was attracted to him, but something in Oliver wasn't sure that he truly liked Cedric in the way the boy deserved to be fancied. Cedric was a great guy, after all. The epitome of a perfect date.

The image of Marcus Flint flashed across Oliver's mind again. _Blazing eyes, green and silver robes, he's a great flyer…_ Oliver almost kicked himself. _Listen to yourself, you stupid sod,_ he admonished himself.

"Uh… Oliver?" Cedric's voice threw Oliver out of his reverie. _Shit,_ Oliver thought. He'd waited too long. "I'm sorry if I…"

"No!" Oliver interrupted quickly. "It just took me by surprise, that's all."

Cedric gave him a quizzical look. "I… really?"

Oliver smiled. "Well, okay, maybe a expected it a _little._ " He broke into a chuckle, which, thankfully, Cedric joined him in.

"Of course I'll go with you," Oliver said, taking Cedric's hands into his. _After all,_ he reasoned with himself. _There's no harm saying yes. It's not leading him on if saying yes would help me sort out my feelings for him, right?_

Cedric looked at him, his eyes blazing with gratefulness. He leaned in to kiss Oliver again, and this time Oliver moved eagerly to meet him halfway.

Before their lips met, however, the sound of someone clearing their throat made both boys jump, startled.

Oliver turned around to see none other than Marcus Flint leaning on the doorframe looking decidedly pissed off.

"Flint!" Cedric gasped.

"Well," Flint drawled lazily, though his eyes blazed with something akin to anger. "It seems you two aren't aware of the notion that others may not want to walk in on the two of you fornicating."

"We weren't – " Oliver protested.

"And," Flint continued, unperturbed. "You do know it's against the rules to do… whatever you were doing… in classrooms?"

"We weren't doing _anything_ ," Oliver said darkly, glaring at Flint, who glared right back at him.

"Just leave us alone, Flint," Cedric said, his eyes narrowing.

"Not my fault you didn't have the intelligence to lock the door," Flint rolled his eyes.

"I thought I did," Cedric sighed wearily.

Flint let out a harsh laugh. "Well," he said, "Fine, I'll leave you two alone and go report this to Snape."

"Flint, don't," Oliver seethed, gritting his teeth. He recognized the beginning of a fight he'd fought many times before, consisting of him and Flint trading insults until one of them threw a punch.

"Why?" Flint said, raising his eyebrows. "You afraid it will hurt your reputation? Especially yours, Diggory. As if your reputation hasn't already been tarnished by everyone knowing you're a faggo – "

"Shut up!" Oliver yelled, surprised at the forcefulness in his own voice. "Don't you dare call him that."

"What, defending your boy, there, Wood?" Flint said darkly. His eyes narrowed, and Oliver was unsettled for a moment. He had never seen this much emotion in Flint's eyes. And that was saying a lot, as he'd seen Flint at the height of anger and the height of frustration before.

"Yes," he bit back nonetheless.

Flint's expression changed then. His eyes shifted and the anger was replaced by a second emotion Oliver couldn't identify, the first being the one he'd shown that day he'd helped Oliver off the floor. This emotion was different, less heated, less intense, but Oliver still couldn't quite place it.

"Fine," Flint said after a few tense moments of silence. He turned around and left the classroom wordlessly.

Oliver found himself breathless, and he didn't know why.

* * *

Harry was lounging in the common room alone, having decided to skip dinner. He'd eaten a late lunch and didn't think he could stomach more food. If he was hungry later on, he'd made a trip to the kitchens.

Harry was just about to head up to his dorm when Oliver entered the common room, lugging his Quidditch bag on one shoulder. Harry suddenly realized that now was the perfect time to talk to the captain. He rose from the couch before his mind could argue against his intentions.

"Hey, Oliver?" Harry called.

Oliver turned, only just realizing Harry was there. "Oh, hey, Harry, what's up?" he asked as he laid down his bag on the table and sat down. He began removing his shin guards.

Harry sat down next to him and took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something," Harry said in one breath, wringing his hands in nervousness.

"Of course you can," Oliver said immediately. "Something 'bout Quidditch?"

Harry shook his head. "No… no. It's something a little personal."

Oliver lifted his head to look at Harry now. "Oh, all right. Yeah, sure."

Harry was reassured by the kind look in his captain's eyes. It was the same look of natural kindness that he was met with every day from Ron and Hermione. The familiarity of it soothed it.

"I think I'm gay…" Harry said, feeling the weight lift off his chest as words tumbled out of his mouth.

Harry glanced at Oliver in fright, fearing his reaction. Had he been too blunt about it?

Oliver merely smiled at Harry, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as he chuckled softly.

"What?" Harry gasped, wondering that he'd said something wrong.

"Nothing, Harry," Oliver reassured him, smiling. "It's just… I _know._ That you're gay, I mean."

"What?" Harry repeated loudly. He hadn't expected _that_ , of all the possible reactions. "But… how?"

Oliver shrugged. "Call it a gay man's intuition. Besides, I caught you checking me out in the showers."

Harry blushed crimson, wanting to hide his face in his hands. "Merlin, I'm sorry. I never meant – "

Oliver laughed, shaking his head. "No, no, Harry, it's fine," he reassured the younger boy. "I don't mind. And remember I'm always here for you if you need to talk to me about anything, whether it's related to you being gay or not. I know this part's hard."

Harry nodded, glad that Oliver understood. "Yeah," he said.

"Have you told Ron or Hermione yet?" Oliver inquired.

Harry shook his head. "I was going to. I _am_ going to. It's just, Charlie just came out yesterday and I don't want to overwhelm Ron…" Oliver nodded in understanding.

"I get what you mean. It's ironic that sometimes that your best friends aren't the first ones you confide in about things like this. It was the same with me."

Harry's curiosity spiked. He was surprised at how much of his dilemma Oliver could relate to. "Who'd you tell first?" he asked.

"Cedric," Oliver admitted. "I told him one day after a Quidditch match. I'd wanted to tell Percy first, but I was too scared to. So one night, I was a little tipsy, but not enough to not know what I was doing. And I told Cedric. He took it well, though, thank Merlin. He was really supportive. A couple days later he confided the same thing to me, about him being gay. That night we had our first kiss… Of course, nothing became of us after that… Until now, that is."

Harry smiled at Oliver's story. He liked Cedric, and was glad that Oliver had found someone.

"You two are great together," he said honestly.

Oliver smiled, though Harry could sense some doubt in him as he did it. He wanted to ask on it, but Oliver didn't give him the chance.

"I'm glad you told me, Harry," Oliver said. "And I won't tell anyone. Until you're ready, of course." He gave Harry a pat on the back.

Harry surprised himself and rose to give Oliver a quick embrace out of gratefulness. He couldn't have hoped for a better reaction. Oliver was great.

 _One down,_ he thought to himself happily, _Still Ron and Hermione to go._


	4. Chapter 4

This one's a long one, folks. And a loooot happens. Since I wrote these early chapters a really long time ago, it was kind of nice reading through them again before I posted them. However, it surprised me how much I packed into this chapter.

 **Chapter 4:**

Harry pursed his lips as he moved his horse, then groaned when Ron grinned, moved his queen and then smiled triumphantly.

"Checkmate," he said.

Harry rolled his eyes, though Ron knew it was out of amusement. Harry wondered why he even tried to beat Ron at chess anymore. This time Harry had been the one who offered to play in order to pass some time before heading off to breakfast.

"Hey, guys," Seamus greeted them as he joined them at the table, sipping some pumpkin juice.

"Hey, Shay," Ron said. "What's up?"

"Nothing," the Irishman grinned, "Dean's hogging the shower so I'm here trying to kill some time."

Harry and Ron chuckled.

"So, Ron," Seamus began, "Hogsmeade with Astoria still on?"

Ron blushed. "Yeah. I'm really nervous 'bout it, honestly."

Seamus laughed. "Don't worry, mate!" he insisted. "Astoria Greengrass… Damn. If I didn't bat for the other team I'd be real jealous."

Now it was Ron's turn to laugh. "Well, thanks. I don't know, I guess I'm just nervous about her having a good time. Who knows what Slytherins like to do."

Ron's statement made Harry wonder why Ron had asked Astoria out. Sure, she was beautiful and Ron was obviously infatuated with her, but she was a Slytherin. And out of all the Gryffindors, Ron was probably one of the most hostile towards Slytherin as a whole. Harry sighed to himself. Ron was clearly blinded by Astoria's beauty. Not to say she was necessarily a bad person… Harry just didn't think Ron knew her well enough to be acting so jittery. He thought back to Hermione and how perfect she would be for Ron. But looking at his friend now, Harry knew that Ron was too excited about his developments with the Slytherin to recognize Hermione's feelings.

 _It's not unlike your own developments with a certain blond Slytherin,_ Harry thought to himself.

* * *

Later that morning, Harry walked into the Great Hall, flanked by Ron and Hermione. Ron quickly rushed over to the side of the Gryffindor table that was nearest to the plates of steak. Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement.

Just as Harry was about to sit down, he heard a fierce whisper from Ron.

"It's Daphne Greengrass!"

He looked up to see the tall Slytherin 7th-year walking straight towards him. His eyes widened, remembering their encounter near the staircases.

"Harry!" she said brightly.

Harry vaguely heard his Gryffindor housemates whispering in shock behind him. After all, it was rare that any 7th years from other houses spoke to underclassmen, especially those like Daphne Greengrass.

"I wanted to ask you a question," Daphne continued, tilting her head to one side, sending her blond waves cascading down her neck.

"Sure," Harry said, finally finding his voice. He hoped he didn't sound as confused or nervous as he felt. Why was Daphne talking to him here, in front of everyone in the Great Hall? "What is it?"

Daphne smiled at him and even Harry was surprised by the warmth in her eyes. "Well, I know this is really last minute," she began, biting her lip. "I tried to find you yesterday but I couldn't. Anyway, I was wondering… if you'd like to take me to the ball tonight."

Harry's eyes widened. To his left, he heard Ron gape. He glanced at his friend and saw him mouth, _Well, go on! Say yes!_

Harry caught Hermione's eyes then and sensed a suspicion in her gaze. He knew she was also thinking the same thing as him. Was Daphne only asking him because of his image as the Boy-Who-Lived? It wouldn't be the first time he'd been pursued solely for that reason.

But with all his housemates looking at him expectantly, and Daphne's sweet, genuine smile almost blinding him, he found that he couldn't possibly say no to her.

 _What about Malfoy?_ a voice sneered in his mind. _You can't very well say yes to her after what you know about him now, can you?_

 _But you can't reject her right now, you fool!_ another voice insisted. _Besides, Malfoy hasn't officially made any indication that he wants to pursue you at all. And this is Daphne Greengrass! Come on!_

And then Harry saw him, Malfoy, behind Daphne, seated at the Slytherin table. If he was bothered at all by Daphne asking Harry to the ball, he didn't show it.

 _Maybe he doesn't like you,_ the first voice said menacingly. _Told you._

Harry sighed to himself. That was true. He didn't know if Malfoy really did like him. He'd made no clear indication of his intentions. Besides, Daphne was a beautiful girl, and she'd been nothing but kind and courteous towards him. It wouldn't harm anyone if he took her to the ball.

"I'd love to," he said, and as soon as the words left his mouth, the Gryffindor table erupted in excited cheers and catcalls. Harry blushed.

"Oh, thank you, Harry!" Daphne exclaimed, rushing over and throwing her arms around him in a quick hug.

Harry found himself smiling. Whatever Malfoy felt about him, he wouldn't let it interfere with his life. He'd have fun at the ball.

* * *

When Harry entered the common room that afternoon, he was instantly met with questions fired at him here and there from curios Gryffindors asking about Daphne.

"How'd you do it, Harry?!" Cormac hollered from one side of the room.

"Do what?" Harry asked, trying to make a dash for the staircase.

"Get Daphne to ask you, of course!" Jack Sloper asked, appearing from the doorway.

"Nothing!" Harry insisted.

"Come on, man, you must've done _something,_ " Jack maintained.

"No, really, I didn't do anything." Harry stated quietly before making his escape up the staircase. It was the truth. He had done nothing, literally, and yet half of the boys from Gryffindor were seething with jealousy.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he shut the door behind him, only to be met with a glaring Hermione. Ron was seated on his bed, rolling his eyes in amusement.

"Hey, 'Mione?" Harry asked nervously, wondering what he'd done to earn that glare.

"Where have you been?!" Hermione asked, exasperated. "Never mind. The ball starts in an _hour_ and you haven't even started getting ready!"

Harry blinked. Ball. In an hour. Right.

"Sorry," he mumbled guiltily.

"Right," Hermione said briskly. "I've lain out your dress robes on your bed. I'll turn around now while you try them on to make sure they still fit. If they don't I'll adjust them with some spells."

Harry nodded and rushed over to his bed, not wanting to anger the brunette any more. Ron scooted over to make room for his friend, his eyes brimming with laughter.

Harry eyed his black and white robes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd worn them… To some formal party he'd gone to last summer, maybe. It seemed that he hadn't lain eyes on them for ages. Nevertheless, he began to unbutton his shirt.

"Look, Harry," Hermione said from where she was sitting on Seamus' bed, looking the other way. "I'm really happy for you and all, but be careful with Daphne all right? I… I don't want another Romilda Vane incident."

Harry nodded, appreciating Hermione's concern.

"Yeah, I know, 'Mione," he replied. "I'll look out for myself."

Even Ron nodded at this, his eyes glazing over with concern.

"Yeah, mate," he said smiling. "Daphne's great and all, just remember she's a Slytherin. And you're the Boy-Who-Lived. Who knows what she could want from you."

Harry opened his mouth, wanting to say something about Astoria, but he decided against it, seeing Hermione stiffening.

"Speaking of your image as the Chosen One," Hermione continued, still studying the wall. "Have you heard the news about Voldemort?"

Harry's head shot up at this as he shrugged on his dress robes. "No, what news?"

Ron looked troubled too.

Hermione sighed. "Clearly you two never bother to read the morning papers. There have been Death-Eater attacks near Hogwarts. No real alarm bells are ringing as the attacks were low-key, and only one casualty has been reported so far. Nevertheless, we should be on our guard for anything odd going on. You can never be too safe."

Ron and Harry both nodded at her last statement. They knew from experience that Voldemort was not to be taken lightly.

Voldemort had come back to power the year before, at the beginning of Harry's 3rd year. Almost immediately after his return, he recruited Death-Eaters from all over Europe, including many with ties to the Slytherin house. However, Voldemort had exerted his power in the cruelest of ways, torturing his followers to the point of insanity when they made the slightest mistake, denouncing family names and even threatening to wipe entire neighborhoods off the face of the earth. As a result, nearly all of the Slytherins and their families defected to the Light side of the war, pledging their alliance to Dumbledore.

Though Voldemort's return saw dark times ahead, his actions, driving a lot of his supporters away, had weakened his support and strengthened the unity within Hogwarts, as they were all united against the Dark Lord. Of course, not all the Slytherins had defected, and other houses remained suspicious now and again. At the end of the day, Slytherins were still hostile to those not of pure wizarding blood. Their allegiance may have changed but their views had not.

Now, it was known that although Voldemort had been silent for a long time, he was preparing an army. The last news was that he was in northern Europe, recruiting from vast lands full of powerful wizards ready to do his bidding.

"How's your scar been, Harry?" Hermione asked, turning around now that she saw Harry was fully dressed, just buttoning up his dress shirt. "Has it been hurting?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it's been fine since the year started."

Hermione nodded, pleased. "Good. Now if at any time it does start hurting, you tell us right away."

Ron nodded fiercely. "Yeah, mate. We'll take the matter up with Dumbledore right away."

Harry nodded gratefully at his two friends, endeared by their concern for him. He clutched the locket around his neck. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve them.

"The robe fits fine, 'Mione," Harry said a couple moments later, after looking at himself thoroughly in the mirror. "The cuffs are a little tight, though."

Hermione took her wand out from her pocket and cast a quick spell. Harry instantly felt the cuffs loosen into a nice fit.

"Thanks," he said, smiling. The robes still fit him well, as they fell perfectly from his waist, just grazing the ground when he walked. He was head to toe in black and white. He hoped for a moment that he'd look good enough for Daphne.

"Now," Hermione said, brandishing her wand once more. "We need to do something about that hair of yours."

"What?" Harry asked, looking at his reflection again. His hair was unruly as always, with peaks tugging in different directions even as his hair cascaded behind his ears.

Ron laughed. "You didn't honestly think that Hermione would let you out of the room with your hair like that, did you, mate?"

Harry stared at him, raising a brow. "But my hair's always like this."

"Yes, much to my chagrin," Hermione sighed. "Here, look at me."

Harry did so, and Hermione stated an incantation with a quick wave of her wand. Harry turned back to the mirror and saw that the strands of hair that used to fall across his eyes were swept aside, and his hair was tamed into what looked like an intentionally wavy look. Though some strands still ran astray, Harry had to admit he looked a lot better.

He smiled at Hermione, again grateful for his friend's seemingly endless magical abilities.

"So, are you ready to pick Daphne up from her common room?" Hermione asked. "It's nearly 6 o'clock."

Harry suddenly felt nervous. What if he was the only 4th-year at the ball? Hell, that would probably be the case. His heart started racing, but Hermione's steady hand on his shoulder, coupled with an understanding smile, managed to soothe him.

Harry nodded at her reassuringly. "I'm ready," he said.

He looked at himself one last time before taking a deep breath and heading for the door.

"Don't wait up for me if the ball goes on too late," he told his two friends.

"Yeah, like that'll happen," Ron smirked. "I want all the details when you get back, mate!"

Harry laughed.

* * *

Oliver stood in the area outside the Hufflepuff common room, adjusting his tie. He was with a group of other students, all waiting for their respective dates. It was generally expected of the boy of the couple to pick the girl up at her common room before they went to the ball together. This rule didn't exactly apply to Oliver and Cedric, so Oliver decided that he should be the one picking Cedric up, being the older of the two.

Glancing around him, Oliver noticed Roger Davies, who was obviously there to pick up his girlfriend, Hannah Abbott. Oliver also saw Adrian Pucey, and wondered who the rough Slytherin could possibly be going to the ball with from Hufflepuff.

But the sight of Pucey reminded him of another Slytherin, and the now familiar image flitted through his mind. _Blazing eyes, green and silver robes…_

 _Stop it!_ he admonished himself. _What in the blazing hell is wrong with you?!_ Oliver shook his head, trying to rid himself of the mental image of Flint's eyes blazing as he flew in the air.

Oliver's thoughts were then interrupted by the door of the common room opening. Out stepped Zacharias Smith and Anthony Rickett, both dressed in similar black robes with gold detailing. Rickett smiled and nodded at Oliver as he passed – the two knew each other well from countless Quidditch encounters. The two boys quickly disappeared down the corridor, obviously in a rush to pick up their respective dates.

A few moments later, Oliver saw Cedric come out of the common room, flanked by some of his friends that Oliver vaguely recognized from having seen them around Cedric before.

Cedric smiled as soon as he recognized his date, rushing over to meet him.

"Hey," he said, smiling brightly. He was dressed in black robes that fit him well, showing off his lean, yet muscular build. His tie was a matte nude color, complimenting his hair well. "You look great."

Oliver smiled. _Ever the charmer,_ he thought of Cedric.

"You more than me," he replied, sincerely meaning it.

He took Cedric's hand and they both headed towards the Great Hall, where the ball would be held.

* * *

When Harry reached the Slytherin common room, his heart was pounding in his chest. He shivered, not used to the cold of the dungeons. He felt some odd stares being shot his way by other students who were already there waiting for their dates to appear. Harry bit his lip, hoping that Daphne would come out soon.

The door opened to reveal Urquhart and Montague, both deep in discussion about something Harry couldn't quite pick up on. The two disappeared up the staircase quickly. Montague, however, had spared Harry a leer as he passed. Harry rolled his eyes, willing himself to keep his composure.

A couple minutes later, Marcus Flint came out, looking frustrated and distracted. Though Harry expected a glare from the Slytherin chaser, Flint merely pushed passed him. Harry wondered who he was taking to the ball.

 _Who'd want to go with him?_ he mused, thinking of the bruise he still had on his abdomen thanks to Flint's fondness of aiming bludgers his way. He wasn't even a beater, but Flint was sure to steal the bats of his beaters whenever he had the fancy of seeing an opponent fall out of the sky. _Especially Oliver,_ Harry thought, wincing when he remembered the game last year when one of Flint's perfectly timed bludgers had collided with the back of Oliver's head, sending the keeper flying off his broom until he landed, unconscious, among the Slytherin stands.

Harry looked up when he recognized Daphne appear from the common room, surrounded by a group of giggling girls. Her eyes lit up when she saw her date, and immediately bounded up to meet him.

"Hey, Harry!" she greeted him, smiling brightly.

She really was beautiful, Harry admitted. She was wearing a midnight blue gown that fitted her nicely, showing off her curves while still looking classy and elegant. Her hair cascaded down her neck in loose curls, and she wore a pair of simple teardrop earrings that complimented her dazzling blue eyes. Her makeup was done without too much flourish, though it managed to enhance her already perfect features, making her skin glow even more. She was… stunning.

"You look stunning," Harry blurted out, quickly blushing at what he'd just said.

Daphne smiled at Harry gratefully, and as hard as Harry tried, he couldn't see any form of arrogance or deception in that gaze.

"Thanks, Harry," she said. "So do you."

Harry found himself taking a liking to the blonde girl. She wasn't annoying or chirpy or clingy like a lot of girls were. If she had asked him to the ball merely for his status, she never showed it. She seemed to genuinely enjoy his company, and he hers. She wasn't pretentious or vain, like many people expected her to be. She seemed like a sweet and kindhearted person. Of course, Harry couldn't make too many judgments about her just yet. He didn't know her well, after all. Though Harry wasn't attracted to her _that_ way, he had to acknowledge that the 7th year Slytherin had made a good impression on him. He found himself hoping that he was matching up to any expectations she might have had.

Before Harry made to offer Daphne his hand, he froze as the door opened to reveal Draco Malfoy. The blond boy was dressed for the ball, in charcoal dress robes and a light grey tie that brought out the stormy grey of his eyes. The cut of the robes were clean and precise, obviously tailored especially for him. His hair was gelled back neatly, though it still looked stylish and not too done-up. He stood with poise and impeccable posture. He took Harry's breath away. He was beautiful.

When Harry saw the whose hand Malfoy was holding, he felt a pang of… something. Jealousy? Anger? Malfoy's date had mousy brown hair, reminding Harry slightly of Pansy Parkinson. He had seen her around before but in that moment couldn't quite put a name to the face. She was obviously a 6th or 7th year, since Malfoy couldn't be going to the ball unless she wasn't.

 _Why is he taking her if he… has feelings for me?_ Harry asked himself. _Then again, why am I taking Daphne if I have feelings for him?_

Harry sighed inwardly. He tensed as Malfoy passed him and led his date up the staircase, not once sparing Harry a glance. Harry stared after him. He didn't know why he felt so hurt. He had no right to. Malfoy was nothing to him, after all.

 _Maybe Zabini was lying,_ a voice sneered in his mind. _Malfoy doesn't like you._

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts quickly and composed himself enough to offer Daphne his hand. He led her up the staircase, all the while masking his emotions with what he hoped was a genuine smile.

He told himself to ignore whatever Malfoy may or may not feel for him. He would have fun at the ball and Malfoy would not ruin that for him.

* * *

Oliver and Cedric were standing by the table where the punch bowl was, sipping on their refreshments. Cedric's hand was wrapped around Oliver's waist, holding him close. Oliver looked up and saw Harry enter the great hall with Daphne Greengrass. Harry immediately sought Oliver out, waving to him with almost a relieved smile when he caught sight of the fellow Gryffindor. Oliver returned his smile, understanding that Harry felt nervous around all the upperclassmen and was grateful to see a familiar face.

Oliver was having a lovely time, having spent the last half hour dancing with Cedric, enjoying the blonde's company greatly. The Great Hall had been absolutely transformed into a beautiful ballroom. The ceiling was charmed to reflect the night sky, glittering with stars and constellations. The walls were painted white and colorful Christmas lights showered across them, making the Great Hall glow luminously. The big tables had been removed and were replaced with a large, rectangular dance floor that was charmed to appear like snow. I was, quite simply, a winter wonderland.

A few moments later, Oliver and Cedric found themselves at one of the round tables near the dance floor, their hands intertwined on the table, watching other couples dancing as they finished their drinks.

"Are you having a good time?" Oliver asked Cedric, happy to see the boy smile back at him, his grey eyes glowing.

"Best night of my life so far," Cedric replied, leaning in to give Oliver a sweet kiss on the lips.

Oliver looked back on the dance floor, smiling when he saw Harry nervously lead Daphne to dance. He saw the happiness reflected in the blonde girl's eyes and knew she was having a great time. Harry had nothing to worry about.

"Hey, I didn't know Anthony Rickett and Cho Chang were dating," Oliver said as he noticed the two locked in a passionate kiss.

Cedric looked over. "Oh yeah, they only became official a couple of days ago, though. They're a good match."

Oliver nodded absently, still looking across the dance floor. His gaze stopped suddenly when he saw a pair of piercing hazel eyes boring into his own. Marcus Flint. His eyes were blazing with the same emotion he'd shown when he walked in on Cedric and Oliver in the classroom; it was the second emotion Oliver couldn't identify. He found that he still couldn't place Flint's expression. It was angry, frustrated… sad? Yes, there was a note of sadness Oliver detected there too. Why would Flint be sad? Oliver's brow furrowed almost in worry. He was moved by the emotion in Flint's eyes and he didn't know why.

Suddenly, Flint moved his gaze from Oliver's eyes to his hand, which was still intertwined with Cedric's on the table. His eyes glazed over with anger and he abruptly got up from his seat and stalked out of the hall.

Oliver acted before he could stop himself, rising from his chair.

"Where are you going?" Cedric asked.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Oliver lied, trying to sound calm. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Cedric nodded and Oliver rushed out of the hall, trying not to walk too fast so as not to raise suspicion. When he'd reached the corridor outside the hall, he couldn't see Flint anywhere. He jogged to the right, going with his gut.

When he turned the corner near the staircase to the dungeons, he finally saw Flint looking over the balcony into the night sky.

It was then when Oliver's thoughts caught up to him. _What am I doing here?! Why'd I follow him?_

Oliver froze in place, not knowing how to approach the Slytherin… not knowing even if he _wanted_ to approach the Slytherin.

He was saved the effort of figuring out what to do when Flint suddenly turned around, locking eyes with Oliver. Again, Oliver was jolted by the emotions swirling in his archrival's eyes.

"What do you want, Wood?" Flint asked roughly.

"I…" Oliver stuttered, at a loss for words. He didn't know what he wanted to say. He didn't even know why he was here, why he'd followed Flint. "You stormed away."

"And when have my actions ever been of your concern?" Flint responded instantly.

Oliver nearly kicked himself. Why had he come here? This would only end in another one of their usual fights, and he didn't fancy getting a broken nose on the night of the ball.

"I don't know," Oliver admitted. "It's just... you seemed angry. At me. That's all."

"Aren't I always somewhat pissed off at you?" Flint said, though his voice turned into a sigh midway as he looked away.

Oliver nodded, not knowing what else to say to that.

"Why do you hate Cedric so much?" Oliver asked. "Is it because he's gay? Is that why you hate me, too?"

Flint looked at him with something akin to surprise.

"No," he said.

"Then why?" Oliver asked. "I mean, other than the fact that you hate everyone. You've been glaring daggers at me and Cedric ever since we… you know."

"Ever since you _what,_ Wood?" Flint asked, his voice rising again. "Since you started fornicating in random classrooms like a bunch of horny rabbits?"

"See?" Oliver protested. "You always get so worked up about Cedric and I. What's your problem?!"

And then it happened. Flint's composed façade cracked, and his face crumpled into an expression that only reflected one thing. Sadness. Oliver almost gasped. Flint quickly tried to recover himself, gritting his teeth in anger before letting out a groan of self-directed frustration. But Oliver had caught it.

The keeper stepped forward, determined now.

"What's… what's _wrong,_ Flint?" Oliver asked softly. His face, he knew, reflected worry. He was worried about Flint. How could he not be? He hadn't seen such sadness encompassed in one expression.

Before Oliver knew what was happening, Flint took one step towards him and grabbed him by the back of the head. Oliver winced, expecting to be slammed on a wall. Instead, Flint leaned forward, his lips meeting Oliver's in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Oliver's eyes widened. And then it was over, almost before it began. The keeper blinked as he stared at Flint, who looked back at him wearily.

"Wh-what did you just do?" Oliver breathed, still in a state of shock. Flint had just kissed him. Marcus bloody Flint had just kissed him.

"I think it's obvious," Flint said, avoiding Oliver's gaze.

"Why?" Oliver asked, his head shaking in confusion.

"I like you, Wood," Flint said softly. "A lot. That's why I kissed you, that's why I hate Diggory to the core."

Oliver's brain couldn't seem to process the information fast enough. _Marcus Flint likes me?_ he thought to himself. _How? When? What? Huh?_

"But you hate me!" Oliver protested, finally finding his voice and snapping out of his state of shock and confusion.

Flint shook his head slightly. "I had to make it look that way."

"But you always treated me so badly. You hit me with three bludgers last year! Three!"

Flint looked at Oliver guiltily, to the keeper's great shock.

"I wanted you to notice me," he said. "And it was either be mean to you and get a reaction or have you ignore my existence."

"You never thought of just being civil?" Oliver asked, trying to follow Flint's logic.

Flint shrugged. "You were never exactly civil with me."

Oliver blinked, realizing that Flint was right. He'd always been hostile to the Slytherin chaser, ever since day one. But that was what had been expected of him. After all, the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch captains were always archrivals, for as long as Oliver could remember.

"I tried being civil with you this year," Flint admitted.

Oliver thought back to when Flint helped him off the floor. He _had_ been civil. Perfectly civil. Kind, even.

"Then you started dating Diggory, and, well…" Flint's voice trailed off.

"We're not dating," Oliver said softly.

Flint looked up at him in confusion and suspicion.

"I mean, not officially," Oliver said hastily. "I don't know what Cedric and I are, to be honest. We haven't talked about it."

Oliver heard Flint take a deep breath.

"Choose me, then."

Oliver blinked again. "What?"

Flint shifted his feet before he lifted his eyes to meet Oliver's.

"I care about you, Oliver," Flint said, and Oliver realized he'd used his first name. "Be with me… Choose me. I will make you happy. I promise."

Oliver stood there, breathing heavily in his shock.

"Flint… since when have you felt this way?"

Flint looked away again and shrugged lightly. "Since you made it on the Quidditch team."

Oliver's eyes widened. That was four years ago. Four. Years. Marcus Flint had liked him for four years.

"Why – Why didn't you say anything?" Oliver wondered out loud. "Four years, Flint. Bloody hell."

"I didn't know how to handle what I felt," Flint admitted. "But over time I realized the feeling wasn't going away. This year I accepted that."

Oliver was silent. He just stared at Flint, his eyes wide, as Flint stared back at him neutrally.

"I… I can't be with you, Flint," Oliver said finally. He couldn't do that to Cedric, no matter how much he'd been thinking of Flint lately. No matter how much he'd loved the feel of Flint's lips on his. No matter how much he found his heart rejoicing in the idea that Flint had liked him all this time.

Flint narrowed his eyes. "Why?" he asked, surprisingly softly.

"I can't do that to Cedric," Oliver explained. "He's a good person, and he likes me a lot."

"Do you like him?" Flint asked, his tone suddenly dark.

Oliver bit his lip. "I don't know. I'm still sorting my feelings out."

Flint closed his eyes and shook his head, sighing in frustration.

"I know you feel something for me," Flint said finally, looking up at Oliver with honest eyes.

Oliver blinked, his heart almost breaking, for he knew that Flint spoke the truth. He did feel something for him. And what he felt for Flint was ten times stronger than what he felt for Cedric. What he felt for Flint plagued his mind, it wouldn't leave his head… He had feelings for Flint too. Now he knew this. But he couldn't… he couldn't act on them. Flint was the captain of Slytherin. And he had Cedric, someone that everybody he knew approved of already. He couldn't give that up. Not for Flint, no matter how strongly he felt for the boy.

"I don't," Oliver replied softly. "We can't be together."

"How's your Quidditch gear?" Flint asked suddenly.

"What?" Oliver said. But then, looking at Flint's raised eyebrows, it dawned on him. The mysterious charm on his Quidditch gear that kept them free of scratches or damage… "That was you?"

Flint nodded. "I put a charm on them. I know how much Quidditch means to you. You deserve the best gear. The charm will work as long as I'm able."

"You're able?" Oliver asked, tilting his head.

"It draws from my magic," Flint explained. "So as long as I'm alive, or in more specific terms, as long as I have enough magical energy for the charm to operate, your gear will remain in good quality."

Oliver stared at Flint in shock. "You did that for me?"

Flint shrugged. "I told you, Wood. I like you. I care about you. What I feel for you is real. I've been battling it for years but I can't make it go away. You mean a lot to me."

Oliver shook his head, his face crumpling into a mixture of sadness and frustration.

"We can't be together," he said firmly.

"Why not?" Flint asked, stepping forward. "I will treat you right. I will care for you. Give me one chance and I won't fuck it up, Wood."

Oliver kept shaking his head, trying to refrain from doing what his heart was yelling at him to do – say yes.

"I don't want to be with you, Flint," Oliver whispered, closing his eyes in frustration. "We wouldn't work out."

"Why not?" Flint asked, sounding as frustrated as Oliver felt.

Oliver's eyes shot open. "Because I hate you! Because my whole house hates you!"

"You don't hate me," Flint said firmly. His eyes bore into Oliver's and suddenly Oliver felt naked, as though Flint could read his emotions to the core.

"But my house does," Oliver said, not denying that he didn't hate Flint. He knew there was no point.

"I'll make it up to them," Flint said, shrugging. "Whatever you want. I can – "

"Look, you're a bloody annoying, arrogant son of a bitch!" Oliver erupted suddenly. All his frustration, stemming from all the hurt Flint had caused him over the years and the confusing feelings he was battling now, was finally voicing itself. "You disgust me, your feelings disgust me, and I would _never_ want to be with someone like you. You got that?"

When the last word had left Oliver's mouth, a deathly silence seemed to settle around the two boys. Oliver's breath hitched in his throat, instantly regretting what he'd said. Flint's expression changed at once, and Oliver recognized his eyes displaying the same emotion he'd seen him expressing in the Great Hall only moments before. But this time, Oliver realized, with a sickening clarity, that he could identify that emotion.

It was heartbreak.

Oliver opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , to take everything back, to apologize, to rush over to Flint and tell him that yes, they could be together – but Flint acted first.

"Fair enough, Wood," he said coolly, though his eyes betrayed the hurt he was feeling. Flint quickly let his cold, indifferent façade slip back into place. "You've made it perfectly clear."

"Wait!" Oliver cried desperately, grabbing Flint's arm.

Flint shook him away roughly. "Get the hell off me, Wood."

"But I – "

"Get _off._ "

Oliver froze at the venom in Flint's tone and recoiled as though he'd been burned.

He watched as Flint walked away from him, his heart breaking. And he knew his eyes wore the same emotion that had graced Flint's just moments before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Harry was not having a good time. He was leaning on a balcony outside the Great Hall, having excused himself from Daphne to get a moment of fresh air.

It wasn't Daphne's fault. In fact, she'd been the highlight of his night. He had danced with her for hours, and she'd proven herself to be delightful, humorous, easygoing and easy to talk to. What had ruined Harry's night was that on the dance floor, wherever he turned, he was met with the sight of Malfoy dancing with his date. He always seemed to have a content smile on his face, laughing at whatever his date said. He'd never seen that side of Malfoy before, and somehow it hurt that some other person that wasn't him had the pleasure of causing Malfoy laughter, joy, amusement…Harry sighed. He wanted to be that person.

So after hours of dancing, Harry found that he couldn't take the sight of Malfoy touching another girl like that. He'd quickly made up an excuse and left Daphne at one of the tables, promising he'd come back in a few moments. Daphne had been surprisingly understanding, insisting that he take his time to get some fresh air. He'd been grateful for her calm, easygoing nature, so unlike the common stereotype of a Slytherin.

Harry sighed again, wrapped up in his thoughts. Why did he feel so jealous? Malfoy wasn't his… well, he wasn't his _anything_ yet. And yet Harry wanted Malfoy to be his something. His anything.

Behind him, someone cleared their throat.

Harry turned around, startled. He was even more startled by the sight of Draco Malfoy himself, looking at Harry with a small smirk on his face.

"Hi," Harry squeaked out, instantly embarrassed how nervous his voice sounded.

Malfoy walked up to him and Harry held his breath.

"What are you doing out here?" Malfoy asked him, looking down over the balcony at the gardens that were glowing under the starlight.

Harry shrugged, suddenly overwhelmed by Malfoy's sheer presence. He looked all the more beautiful up close.

"I wasn't having a good time," he admitted, instantly guilty that his words made it sound that Daphne was at fault when she most certainly wasn't. In fact, the person at fault for his horrible night was standing right in front of him.

Malfoy looked at him quizzically. "Because of Daphne?" he asked softly.

Harry shook his head. "No."

"Why, then?" Malfoy asked, his eyes surprisingly soft and genuinely curious.

Harry took a deep breath. Maybe he should just confess now. All or nothing, right? If Zabini had been lying, then at least he'd know. It would be better than being stuck in limbo as he was now… Wanting Malfoy so badly but not acting on it, clinging to the hope that the blond liked him back.

Harry began speaking before any inner voice could stop him.

"You were dancing with your date," Harry began, wincing at how pathetic that sounded. He cursed inwardly. _Merlin, that's the best you can come up with? Seriously?_

But Malfoy was looking at him, clearly bemused. He gave Harry a little smile.

"So were you," he said simply.

Harry gulped. "I just… Zabini told me something the other day and I… I just… Ithoughtyoulikedme."

Malfoy tilted his head in confusion and Harry's heart clenched in fear.

"I'm sorry," he said hastily. "I didn't mean to, Merlin I'm such a mess right now I can't even speak and I – "

"Harry," Malfoy interrupted. "Stop it."

"Huh?" Harry said, wincing as he met Malfoy's gaze.

"I _do_ like you," Malfoy said softly.

Harry's eyes widened. His heart raced with a sudden emotion he hadn't felt in a while. It was as though everything was suddenly _right._ Malfoy liked him. Draco Malfoy, the boy who had haunted Harry's every thought for the past few weeks, liked him. It was true. Harry suddenly felt… free.

"Why did me dancing with my date bother you?" Malfoy asked, confusion marring his perfect features.

Now it was Harry's turn to look confused. "Uh… Because you were… well, you were touching her… and… I was…" Harry's voice trailed off.

Malfoy looked at him, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"You were…?"

Harry sighed. "I was jealous, Malfoy."

And then Malfoy threw his head back and laughed softly. Harry realized how lovely Malfoy's laugh sounded. He'd rarely had the pleasure of hearing it. It was a sound he wanted to hear again, and again, and again.

"Tracey's my distant cousin, Harry," Draco explained, still chuckling in amusement. "She begged me to take her tonight because she didn't have anyone else to go with. I've known her since I was a baby. We're like family."

Harry blinked. "Oh."

"Harry?" Malfoy asked with his usual smirk.

"Yes."

"You can call me Draco."

Harry blinked. "Draco," he breathed. The name sounded unfamiliar on his lips, but he instantly became addicted to it. "Draco," he repeated.

Draco chuckled.

"So," he began, moving closer to Harry, "Is it fair to assume, since you were jealous, that you have feelings for me too?"

Harry nodded, mesmerized by Draco's swirling grey eyes. "Yes. I do."

Draco smiled at this.

"Will you be with be, then, Harry?" he asked, his eyes softening. Harry was shocked at his gentle tone.

"Be with you?" he breathed in disbelief. "As in… be your boyfriend?"

Draco's smile widened in amusement. "Yes, Harry. I'm asking if you want to be my boyfriend."

Harry blinked again, jolting out of the stupor he seemed to be in.

"How long have you liked me?"

"Since I met you."

"What?" Harry gasped.

Draco shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "I've always liked, you, Harry. That's why I tried to befriend you the first time we met. Evidently, I approached you in the wrong way and acted in a manner completely unbecoming of a decent person. It was merely expected of me as a Malfoy, as my family supported the Dark Lord."

Harry cringed at Draco's last statement. He narrowed his eyes, suddenly reminded of the fact that Draco was a Slytherin. His family did have ties with Voldemort. What was he thinking?

Sensing Harry's change, Draco quickly moved to explain.

"My parents still are Death-Eaters, Harry," he admitted. "But it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" Harry asked immediately.

"You need to promise to keep this to yourself," Draco said softly. "But I trust you to."

Harry nodded quickly.

"My parents are spies for the Order," he said finally. "They report to Dumbledore. They have been since early last year. But only members of the inner circle of the Light are aware of this. Confidentiality is important in such matters, of course."

Harry looked at Malfoy, trying to catch any deception or insincerity in his eyes, but was only met with honesty and a softness that had his insides melting.

So Draco wasn't a Death-Eater. Well, his parents were, but they were on the Light side. And Draco liked him. He liked Draco. Everything seemed to fit into place in his mind.

"Draco?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes?"

"Will you kiss me?"

Draco's face broke out into a delighted smile. He moved forward and cupped Harry's chin with one hand, tilting it upwards. And then he leaned in, as Harry moved his lips up to meet him halfway.

When their lips met, Harry's eyes fluttered closed. After a few moments, Draco's tongue pressed gently on Harry's lips, asking for entrance. Harry immediately opened his mouth, letting Draco's tongue slide in and meet with his own.

Harry moaned as Draco pulled him closer, and the young Malfoy smiled into the kiss. When they broke apart a few moments later for air, Harry looked, dazed, into Draco's smiling eyes.

"That was… nice," Harry breathed. Nice was an understatement. It was like heaven kissing Draco.

Draco smiled at him, his hand falling to wrap around Harry's neck.

" You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"Will you be with me?" Draco breathed, hot on Harry's neck. "Go out with me, Harry."

Harry smiled. He knew it was right, now. He didn't have to consult any voices in his mind because no voices were arguing. He _knew_ now. This was right.

"Yes," he said, not regretting his decision one bit. "Yes, I will, Draco."

As they moved to kiss each other again, Harry heard the sound of heels clicking behind him. He quickly turned around.

It was Daphne.

* * *

Oliver hurried into the Great Hall, trying not to look as frazzled as he felt. He saw Cedric, still sitting at the table he'd left him at, and walked towards him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," Cedric said, standing up and looking at him with concern. "Are you okay? You were gone a while."

"Yeah, sorry," Oliver apologized, feeling guilty. "I wasn't feeling too well so I just got a little fresh air afterwards. I'm so sorry I kept you waiting."

Cedric smiled. "It's all right. Do you feel better now?"

Oliver nodded, returning Cedric's smile with what he hoped was a smile of his own.

"Let's dance," Oliver said, offering his hand to Cedric, who took it immediately. He needed to clear his head. And his heart.

But he knew his heart was breaking. And he'd rejected the only person who could save it.

* * *

Harry gasped, letting go of Draco immediately. _Oh, shit,_ he thought. Here he was, with Draco, having practically ditched his date for the night. And he'd gotten caught.

He started rambling before he could stop himself. "Daphne! It's not what it looks like…" He turned to address Draco. "Not that I didn't want to be here…with you, but Daphne…" He turned back to Daphne. "I…I didn't mean to leave you. Dra-Malfoy just came and I…"

Daphne laughed, the sound jolting Harry out of his seemingly never-ending ramble.

Beside him, Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Greengrass," he said calmly. "You coming out here and interrupting us was _not_ part of the arrangement as I recall it."

"Oh, Draco," Daphne rolled her eyes. "I just wanted to make sure you'd found him. I take it your plan worked?"

Harry looked back and forth between them, confused.

"Plan?" he asked.

Daphne giggled, while Draco rolled his eyes.

"I… _convinced_ Greengrass to help me… further the developments between you and I," Draco explained, obviously trying to word his explanation appropriately. "I asked her to bring you to the ball so I could talk to you here. And, well… here we are."

Harry looked at Daphne, eyes wide.

Daphne looked back at him, suddenly concerned.

"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed. "I hope that doesn't make it seem like Draco forced me to ask you. I really enjoyed your company. You're great."

Harry smiled then, understanding. "Thanks. I just… well, so many boys would have loved to go with you, I imagine. I feel bad that you had to go with me, that's all."

Daphne laughed again. "Oh, Harry. All my suitors want me for are my looks and nothing more. It's ridiculous. I wouldn't have had half the night I've had with you if I'd gone with any of them, believe me. Now, I think I'll leave you two alone before Draco here hexes me for intruding."

With that she turned around and headed back to the Great Hall, but not before winking at the couple cheekily.

Harry laughed at the annoyance that marred Draco's face. "What's wrong?"

Draco's eyes softened then as he turned back to Harry. "Nothing. She just interrupted us."

Harry smiled, finding himself lost in Draco's eyes again. _Merlin,_ he thought, _he's beautiful._

"Do you want to take a walk down by the gardens?" Draco asked. Harry nodded, eager to have some time alone with the blond.

And so the two walked down to the gardens, which were enchanted with small lights that glittered just enough to guide the way through meandering paths.

Draco held Harry's hand as they talked, both of them getting to know each other better. Harry was fascinated by Draco's stories of his family, especially because it was a change to hear about the Malfoys in a different light – how they acted during family parties, for example. In return Harry told Draco a little about his own childhood. Seeing Draco's eyes pricked with barely controllable anger when Harry told him of the Dursleys made Harry feel strangely, but comfortably, safe.

"Have you come out?" Harry suddenly asked Draco, as they sat together in the middle of the gardens.

Draco shrugged. "I don't need to. Most Slytherins know I'm taken with either sex. As for the rest of the houses, I don't feel the need to elaborate on my preferences to them. "

"Oh? How do the Slytherins know?"

"Blaise and I…" Draco trailed off.

"Oh…" Harry said, looking away.

"It ended years ago," Draco explained simply, trying to make Harry look at him again. "Meant nothing."

Harry looked at Draco… his boyfriend… again – _Merlin, he liked the sound of that –_ and smiled. "Okay."

"Have you?" Draco asked. "Come out, I mean."

Harry shook his head idly.

"Shall we keep us a secret until you're ready?"

Harry looked up at Draco, amazed by the kindness he saw in those grey depths. He didn't catch any sense of the old hatred Draco used to express towards him.

"No," he said, suddenly feeling more determined than ever. "I've been wanting to come out for a while now. I'll tell Hermione and Ron tonight. And about us. I don't want to hide."

Draco smiled and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Harry's eyes fluttered closed nevertheless, relishing in the feel of Draco's lips over his skin.

"As long as that's what you want," Draco said. "I would never push you to do anything you weren't ready for."

Harry blinked, amazed at how much Draco cared for him.

"I'm ready… to tell Ron and 'Mione, at least. I want to come out to everyone, though. I just don't want to do the big announcement thing, you know?"

Draco nodded in understanding. He raised his eyes, as if he was thinking hard.

"What if we just… date?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just… be a couple. Hold hands, do… well, couple things. Let's not hide. People will get the clue themselves. Then you won't half to make an announcement or anything of the sort."

Harry smiled and suddenly had the urge to kiss Draco, hard. And that's what he did.

"Okay," he said.

* * *

It was half past midnight when Harry quietly closed his dormitory door behind him. He instantly saw the sleeping forms of Seamus and Dean on one side of the room. On the other, Hermione was kneeling down next to Ron's bed, helping the redhead, who was lying on his stomach on the bed, with his homework. Harry caught her saying, _"Oh come on, Ron, you learned this in your first year!"_ and chuckled.

Hermione and Ron turned to him, startled.

"Mate!" Ron yelled.

"Shhh, you'll wake up Shay and Dean," Harry whispered.

"Don't worry," Hermione said. "I cast a silencing spell on the rest of the room. They won't hear a thing. I suspected you'd want to talk when you got back."

Harry nodded gratefully, laying his things down on his bed before joining his two friends on Ron's side of the room.

"How was Daphne?" Ron asked, his brows wiggling suggestively.

Harry sighed. "She was really nice."

Hermione looked at Harry in concern, recognizing his troubled features for what they were. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry bit his lip, and Ron and Hermione instantly looked worried.

"I have something to tell you guys," he confessed.

"What is it, mate?" Ron asked. "Is it you scar?"

"Is it hurting, Harry?" Hermione asked, fretting.

"No, no… it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"Guys… I… I don't know how else to say this…" Harry shut his eyes. "I'm gay."

Harry listened to his harsh breathing for awhile, not able to open his eyes for fear of what he may see in Ron and Hermione's. After a few moments, he felt Hermione's gentle hand on his lap.

"Harry," she said softly. "Harry, open your eyes."

He did.

The first thing he saw was Hermione rushing over to him, enveloping him in an embrace.

"Harry," she breathed. "Did you honestly worry about us reacting badly to that?"

Harry shrugged guiltily. He looked over at Ron. He winced when he saw Ron's confused expression. Hermione smacked the redhead, her eyes widening in a glare. "Ron! Say something."

Ron quickly found his voice. "Mate! I'm sorry; it just took me a while to process that. I'm just… surprised. I never thought you could be… you know. Gay."

Harry looked down, recognizing the change in Ron's tone immediately. He was already treating him differently.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at Ron, who mouthed, _What?_ Hermione glared pointedly at him.

"Harry," Ron said finally. "Mate, I don't judge you for being gay. I'd never do that. Hell, so's Shay, so's Oliver, so's _Charlie._ You being gay wouldn't change anything between us. You being gay… it's fine. It's great. And I'm glad you told us."

Harry looked up. His eyes, which had been clouded with despair, cleared. He smiled thankfully at his best friend. He wasn't going to lose him. Thank Merlin.

Then he reminded himself that it wasn't over.

"That's not all."

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, sensing Harry's nervousness. "You can tell us anything. You know that."

"Yeah, mate, she's right."

Harry bit his lip. "You're not going to like this one."

Hermione shook her head. "Even if we don't, we'll always support you, okay?"

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. _Here goes everything._

"Tonight Draco asked me to be his boyfriend. I said yes."

The silence that followed Harry's last word was deafening. Harry held his breath, willing himself not to choke.

A few moments later, Ron erupted.

" _Malfoy?!"_

Harry winced.

"Harry! He's a Death-Eater! His family is… he's a Slytherin! Harry!"

"Ron!" Hermione admonished. "Stop being so childish. He's not a Death-Eater. You know that the Slytherin house is free of them since Voldemort's return last year. Dumbledore even did an allegiance check to confirm that the whole of Hogwarts opposes the Dark Lord!"

Ron didn't listen.

"Mate, you cannot be serious! What do you see in him?"

"Everything," Harry said, the word slipping out before he could stop it. "He's been good to me, Ron. This whole year. I… I know it sounds ridiculous but I really like him."

Ron seemed to calm down, though his eyes were blazing.

"Harry," he started. "If you like him, I won't do anything to stop you from going out with him. I'm your mate. I'll support you. But I should let you know that I disapprove."

Harry nodded in understanding. He turned to Hermione.

"As long as you're careful, Harry," Hermione said, her eyes glowing with acceptance and care for her friend.

Harry let out a breath. He had known this wasn't going to be easy. He shouldn't have doubted his friends. They'd been with him through thick and thin.

"But Harry?" Ron said.

"Yeah?"

"If he ever hurts you, _ever,_ he will have me and Hermione after his blood."

Harry laughed. Ron joined him, and Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement.

That night, Harry went to bed with a smile on his face. Ron and Hermione accepted him for who he was. And he knew those two were all he really needed.

 _And Draco,_ he thought, thinking of grey, stormy eyes and platinum blond hair.

He fell asleep with the image of the Slytherin etched into his mind.

* * *

By noon the next day, the school was buzzing with the latest momentous piece of gossip. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were dating.

There had been no grand announcement, no coming out, nothing. Draco and Harry had simply walked into the Great Hall hand in hand, oblivious to the silence that they left in their wake. There were gasps, wide eyes, and expressions of pure disbelief. Harry noticed that strangely enough, it seemed to be the Slytherins who were least surprised by Harry and Draco's relationship, as many of them had laughed good-naturedly and patted Draco on the back as he joined them at the table.

Harry himself was subjected to questions being shot at him every time he was around his housemates. They were even more curious now than they'd been about Daphne. Thankfully, though, it seemed that apart from a couple of disapproving stares from some people he cared nothing about, his friends eventually came to accept it. Though most Gryffindors stayed clear of Draco whenever he came by Harry in the hallways to give him a quick kiss hello – especially Ron, who glared daggers at the blond boy, most of them had refrained from being outwardly hostile to Draco, which Harry was eternally grateful to them for.

And so the week went on, and Harry's relationship with Draco flourished. Quickly, he developed somewhat of a comfortable routine. In the mornings, Draco would either pick him up at his common room, or he'd pick up Draco at his. They'd walk to the Great Hall together, separating when they got there. Harry took care to evenly split his evenings so he spent some of them with Draco, walking around in the gardens or near the Quidditch pitch, and some of them with his friends in the common room or sneaking around in the kitchens.

 _Yeah,_ Harry thought one afternoon as he walked to Potions, his hand in Draco's as he laughed at a joke Ron had made, _Life is looking up._

* * *

While Harry enjoyed his newfound romance, Oliver's life was in tatters. Only he knew this, of course, as he had to save face in front of all his friends by putting on a mask of happiness. Percy had asked him on a couple of occasions if anything was wrong, but Oliver had immediately shaken his head, and Percy dropped it.

Oliver was still with Cedric… well, they were _kind of_ seeing each other, though they still hadn't talked about it. Oliver always wondered why Cedric hadn't ever brought up the subject of what they were. Were they boyfriends? Were they serious? Oliver had wanted to ask on a couple of occasions but refrained from doing so when he realized that he didn't genuinely care. He enjoyed Cedric's company, took comfort in his warm embraces, but he knew he didn't like Cedric as anything more than a friend. A friend with benefits, perhaps, but still only a friend.

The reason Oliver hadn't ended things with the Hufflepuff was that he wanted to make it work so badly. He'd rejected Marcus coldly, cruelly… all in favor of having someone that people approved of.

And then Harry and Draco came out as a couple and Oliver realized how foolish he'd been. If Harry and Draco were brave enough to take a leap of faith, why hadn't he been?

Since then Oliver had tried to seek Marcus out, strategically telling Cedric that he was busy, or that he had a lot of work to catch up on. The Hufflepfuff was, thankfully, completely understanding, though Oliver's conscience pricked with guilt every time Cedric would smile at him, completely trusting. Oliver found himself waiting a little longer after class to catch Marcus, or purposefully walking near the Slytherin tower, but Marcus seemed to be avoiding him, and quite successfully. He would walk in clusters of Slytherins or slip around corners strategically to bypass the Gryffindor captain.

One morning, Oliver was walking to the Great Hall, running late yet again after he'd slept in despite Percy's desperate protests for him to wake up.

Before he rounded the last corner, he was slammed against a wall. He blinked, dazed, as he made out his attacker, instinctively expecting Flint.

Instead, he was met with the fierce stare of a snarling Urquhart. Beside him, Derrick and Bole, the beaters for the Slytherin team, stood, staring at Oliver menacingly.

"Wh – "

"Scared for tomorrow, Wood?" Urquhart hissed. He was obviously referring to the Quidditch game that would be held on Saturday evening. Gryffindor against Slytherin.

Oliver narrowed his eyes, finding himself strangely out of practice when it came to arguing with Slytherins. Ever since Flint had stopped harassing him… His heart clenched at the reminder.

"Get off me, bastard," Oliver bit out, struggling in vain. Urquhart's large hands bore down firmly on his collarbone.

"Make me," Urquhart sneered before leaning back with his fist in the air. Oliver winced and prepared himself for the punch.

Urquhart's fists came raining down on his face, filled with a force stemming from years of rivalry. Oliver could only grit his teeth as he prayed for it to be over soon. He felt his cheek split under the force of the blows, and blood dripped down to his chin.

Suddenly Urquhart was thrown off him. Before Oliver knew what was happening, Urquhart was sprawled on the floor with Marcus Flint standing towering above him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Flint asked his chaser, his voice low and dangerous.

Urquhart stared up at his captain, his face twisted in confusion. "I was just giving Wood a scare!"

Flint narrowed his eyes. "We need Wood alive for when we pummel his team tomorrow."

Urquhart grinned, getting up off the floor. "You're right. The tosser's got it coming."

Oliver growled in anger.

"What's wrong, Wood? Scared?" Derrick mocked and he and Bole burst into laughter.

Before Oliver could bite back a retort, Flint spoke up.

"Are we really going to spend the morning talking to this piece of filth?" Flint drawled. "I'm starving, let's go."

Urquhart left with Derrick and Bole, the latter two muttering something about being in time for the pancakes. Flint lingered for a moment, frowning at the floor.

"Thank you for stopping him," Oliver said, though his heart still hurt from Flint's harsh comment. _This piece of filth._ Had he really driven Flint that far away from him? Only a few weeks ago the Slytherin had been gentle…loving…

"Fuck off, Wood," Flint retorted, his voice cold.

Oliver's face fell. He silently begged Flint to stop this act, to go back to how he'd been the night of the ball, before Oliver had so cruelly lashed out at him, to look at Oliver with warm, amused eyes. Oliver desperately needed Flint to care.

But Flint stalked away without another glance at him.

* * *

"Harry, Draco's here!" Ron called, his voice good-natured when referring to the Slytherin. It had taken Ron a while to warm up to Draco, but when he saw how much the blond cared for Harry, he'd eventually agreed to be at least civil towards him.

"Coming!" Harry replied from his dorm before rushing down the staircase to meet Draco where he stood at the entrance to the common room.

"Hey," he greeted the blond with a soft kiss on the lips.

"Missed you," Draco replied, slipping a hand to hold Harry's waist. "You ready to go?"

Harry nodded. They were going to the Quidditch pitch to watch Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff, a highly-anticipated match.

"Hey," Draco said, catching Harry's attention as they walked in the direction of the pitch, holding hands. "I was wondering if you wanted to maybe watch the game from the Slytherin stands today?"

Harry tilted his head. "Would they mind?"

Draco shook his head firmly. "And those who do mind I will hex into next week."

Harry chuckled. He realized he hadn't really gotten to know many of Draco's friends, while Draco had made a huge effort to befriend the Gryffindors, hitting it off well with Seamus, Dean, Hermione and the Weasley twins in particular. Draco had even been creeping onto Ron's good side lately. Harry suddenly felt a pang of guilt for not making the same kind of effort with the Slytherins. It wasn't that he didn't want to… They just intimidated him.

"Sure," Harry replied, smiling up at Draco, delighted at the way Draco's eyes lit up. "I'd love to."

Draco leaned in and gave Harry a soft kiss on the nose. Harry blushed.

"You're adorable when you blush."

His statement only made Harry's blush intensify.

As Draco led Harry to the Slytherin stands of the field, Harry bit his lip as a couple of hushed whispers of surprise followed him around as he walked. Draco's grip tightened supportively around his hand and he smiled at the blond, glad for his support.

Draco led Harry up to the middle of the bleachers, where Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass sat. Harry smiled at the latter immediately, glad to see a familiar face in the sea of green.

"Hi, Harry!" Daphne said, standing up to give Harry a quick embrace.

Draco rolled his eyes, though Harry could tell he was amused.

Draco let Harry sit down on his left between him and Daphne as the Slytherin took the isle seat, obviously wanting to make Harry feel safe. Harry appreciated the gesture.

"Harry… Pansy and Blaise. Pansy and Blaise… Harry." Draco introduced them, gesturing between the Gryffindor and the smirking Slytherins.

Harry chuckled nervously. "I know who they are, Draco."

Pansy's face broke into a grin. Harry was almost shocked at the rare sight. He'd only ever seen Pansy scowling or looking haughty as ever.

"Well, I've never been introduced to you as Draco's _boyfriend,_ " she said, and Harry found her tone to be surprisingly lighthearted and genuine.

Pansy laughed at the nervousness in Harry's face. "Oh, we're past the petty house rivalry, aren't we? Even though you're the Gryffindor golden boy, and all. You don't need to be scared of us, silly."

Beside her, Blaise let out a silent chuckle. "Who in their right mind would be scared of _you,_ Pansy?"

Pansy looked accosted. "Blaise, will you shut that sarcastic mouth of yours for once?"

"I would if you didn't make it so easy to use this sarcastic mouth of mine around you," Blaise said, raising an eyebrow condescendingly.

Draco sighed at his friends and turned to Harry apologetically. "Sorry, they're always like this."

Harry found himself smiling and snuggling closer to Draco. "I don't mind."

"Of course he doesn't," Blaise said, smirking. "He's too much of a Gryffindor to condemn such innocent antics."

"Blaise!" Draco looked as if he wanted to hex Blaise right there and then, but Harry's reassuring hand on his thigh stopped him.

"Aww," Pansy cooed, noticing the gesture. "You two are so cute."

"I am not _cute_ ," Draco retorted, horrified.

Harry and Daphne laughed at this.

"You prefer devilishly handsome and strikingly good looking?" Harry teased as Pansy joined in the laughter heartily.

"Yes," Draco said, his expression softening when he turned back to his boyfriend. "I think that's about right."

The game started then, and Harry found himself thoroughly enjoying it from the Slytherin stands. He was bemused by Pansy's talkative personality as she commented excitedly about every play. Blaise's commentary was much less chirpy, as he eyed each player with criticism dripping on his every comment. He was doubtless trying to decipher any weaknesses for the next time Slytherin played against either team. Daphne was great company too, as her eyes glittered as the players flew back and forth. She knew next to nothing about Quidditch, but was all ears when Draco or Harry attempted to explain a move or a play that occurred.

Though Harry was pleased with how unthreatening Draco's friends really were, his boyfriend had been the best company of all. He'd been affectionate with Harry throughout the entire game, often nuzzling his neck, or pecking him on the cheek – gestures that Harry gladly returned. He couldn't keep his hands off the blond. Draco had also discussed the Slytherin Quidditch team with Harry, though he carefully avoided the subject of the upcoming Slytherin versus Gryffindor game. Harry learned that Draco had been training, and wanted to try out for the position of Seeker when Higgs left next year. Harry had beamed at Draco's passion when he talked about Quidditch, encouraging him as much as he could. He loved the way Draco's eyes glittered with confidence, but at the same time, vulnerability. And Harry's heart ached with joy when he knew that he was probably one of the only people who'd ever seen Draco without his rigid mask of cold confidence and indifference. The thought made Harry's heart soar.

"Harry?" Draco said as Anthony Rickett stepped up to take a penalty shot after Roger Davies had unfairly brought down a Hufflepuff chaser.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, prying his eyes away from the sky.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" Draco asked. Though his tone was confident, Harry caught the glimmer of nervousness in his grey eyes.

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes. "Of course I will, silly."

Draco laughed. "I was just making sure."

Harry shook his head in amusement and leaned in to kiss the blond passionately.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

Harry raised an eyebrow when he saw how much food Jack Sloper piled onto Harry's own plate.

"Honestly, you don't eat enough, Harry!" Jack insisted. "You need your energy if we want to thrash Slytherin today."

Harry just watched as Jack stacked sausage after sausage onto his breakfast plate, finally topping it all off with a load of ketchup.

"There," he said, pleased with himself.

Harry smiled in thanks, though he knew he could never eat that much.

Nerves prickled faintly. Today was the day of Gryffindor versus Slytherin, the first time the two teams would face each other that year. Harry was certainly nervous – he didn't want to let his team down, especially against Slytherin.

"Where's Oliver?" Alicia Spinnet asked suddenly.

Jack shrugged, as did Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell. The Weasley twins shared a look, then shrugged as well.

Harry's brow furrowed in worry. Their captain had been somewhat out of sorts the last couple of days. Oh, sure, he was still training them with as much intensity as you'd expect from Oliver Wood, but Harry had caught the changes in him. He'd seemed more distracted, often daydreaming in the middle of practice before being jolted out of his thoughts by Harry or by the others. He'd also been rather subdued when discussing the game against Slytherin, which was odd for the captain, as he was usually filled with a fiery passion in his desire to beat the other team. Harry had tried to think what could possibly be wrong with Oliver to no avail.

Just then, said captain walked into the hall, looking confident and ready for the match. He was already geared up, holding a broom in one hand and his keeper gloves in the other. Though he held himself with the stature of a captain, Harry could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes and his own glittered with confusion. Maybe he was overanalyzing things…

"All right, everyone?" Oliver asked his team as he walked by and settled beside Jack.

The team nodded affirmatively, looking determined and eager as ever. Oliver smiled.

"Good. If we stick to our game plan and the strategies we discussed, we can beat them."

"Well, if we value your life we'll beat them," Fred laughed. "We don't want another 'drowning yourself in the shower' incident, do we, Ollie?"

The whole team burst into laughter as Oliver blushed red.

* * *

Harry waited in the Gryffindor tunnel for the doors to open, nervously gripping his broom. Beside him, Oliver had settled into his calm and focused mode as he did during every game. His eyes were narrowed, focused and alert. Harry tried his best to copy him, but found that he could never quite control his nerves during or before a game.

Suddenly, he heard a rustling noise to his left. He turned and saw Draco pulling back the sheet that separated the tunnel and the undersides of the supporter stands.

"What are you doing here?" Harry hissed.

"Calm down," Draco said, chuckling. "I just wanted to wish you good luck."

"Oi, Malfoy!" Fred said, though his eyes gleamed with amusement at the interchange between the two 4th-years. "No bribing your boyfriend to throw this game away for you!"

Oliver's eyes widened in alarm at this, and he was about to order Draco to leave before he saw Harry look at him with silent desperation. He sighed. He'd let it slide for now.

Draco, meanwhile, was staring Fred down, unimpressed. "Come on, Weasley. You honestly think I'd lower myself to begging Harry to let us win?"

Fred raised his brows. "Well, yeah."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Unlike some, I try to preserve my dignity."

Harry cupped Draco's cheek, getting his boyfriend to look at him. Draco's eyes softened immediately.

"You know I'm playing against your team, right?" he said.

"I'm aware."

"Why are you wishing me good luck, then?"

"I don't want to let the rivalry between our houses get in between us. You're my boyfriend and I want you to be happy."

Harry smiled. Draco had chosen him over his Slytherin patriotism.

"Thank you," he said, and then laughed. "But we're going to kick your team's ass."

Draco chuckled. "Prat."

"I've learned from the best," Harry said teasingly.

Laughing, Draco cupped Harry's face in both his hands and gave him a quick yet firm kiss on the lips. And then he quickly left the way he'd come, leaving Harry's lips tingling.

Oliver smacked Harry gently on the back of the head.

"Focus, now," he said sternly. "Forget Malfoy and just focus. We need you."

Harry quickly nodded, pushing the feel of Draco's lips from his mind. Madame Hooch blew the preliminary whistle and the Gryffindors mounted their brooms. It was time to win this game.

* * *

The game got off to a rocky start by both team's standards. Urquhart had given away an early penalty to Gryffindor, which Katie Bell had scored, while Alicia Spinnet had muffled up a throw and scored an own-goal.

While scouting the pitch for any sight of the snitch, Harry had kept one eye on Oliver, half out of concern for the keeper and half because of the fact that his captain was shouting orders every five seconds as the team seemed to be rushing to repair the earlier chaos.

Harry had also noticed Flint, for some odd reason. No, he'd not just noticed Flint, he'd observed his interaction with Oliver. Whenever Flint would get close enough to score, Oliver's eyes would flash with both determination, but something else, too. Harry recognized that look. It was the same look he saw in Draco's eyes every time he looked at him. And when Flint turned away from Oliver either after scoring or after having his shot saved, Harry saw the same emotion in the Slytherin's eyes too.

They loved each other.

Though Harry shocked himself with the realization, he knew it was true. The looks they gave each other throughout the game made it clear. There was no other explanation. Harry wondered vaguely about Oliver and Cedric, but he knew that Oliver had never once looked at Cedric that way.

 _Do they know?_ Harry wondered. _Do they know how in love they are with each other?_

Harry couldn't dwell on it much longer as he refocused on the game, diving as he made to scour the bottom of the field, where the snitch often hid.

* * *

Oliver squinted, a hand moving to block the sun's glare. On the other end of the field, Alicia Spinnet had just scored another goal. The score was 80-70 to Gryffindor. It was still anyone's game. The snitch had yet to be sighted.

A few minutes later, the sound of a cry caught Oliver's attention. He turned just in time to see Jack slip off his broom and fall to the sandy surface below. He caught sight of the bludger, clearly the culprit, whizzing away.

 _Shit,_ he thought, as Ginny came in to replace Jack as a substitute. _Jack's our best chaser._ Ginny was talented, definitely, but she was still only a 4th-year and this was her first game against Slytherin.

 _Harry, you better find that snitch quickly,_ Oliver thought desperately.

Moments later, a Slytherin attack came headed his way, led by Marcus Flint. Flint passed the quaffle to Zabini, who used his lithe form to his advantage as he dodged two consecutive bludgers from Fred and George. Oliver's eyes never left the quaffle.

Zabini turned and slipped the quaffle to Urquhart as he flew by, and Urquhart slammed the quaffle back to Flint for him to score. Oliver didn't even look at Flint as his eyes were locked on the quaffle as Flint flew closer. Suddenly, Oliver heard Flint make a frustrated noise, throwing the quaffle back into Urquhart's hands. Flint then turned back to Oliver and made a lunge at him on his broom.

Oliver was completely taken by surprise, unable to save the quaffle from going into one of the hoops that Urquhart had lashed it in. Flint slammed against Oliver, driving him backwards until the Gryffindor slammed against the nearest viewing tower. Oliver felt his broom fall from under him as his head clashed against a wooden beam. He cried out.

"Flint, what are you doing?!" he managed to cry, fear thrumming through his veins.

Madame Hooch was blowing the whistle now, calling for the two boys to stop immediately. As Oliver felt himself begin to fall, a levitation charm was placed on him by Madame Hooch, holding him in the air. Meanwhile, Flint had disappeared back to the other side of the pitch.

The other players were all looking at him, or at Flint, in shock, Oliver realized. When the past minute had caught up to him, Oliver's brow furrowed, hurt at Flint's actions. He'd slammed him against a god damn tower. His head still throbbed, both with the knowledge of Flint's hatred and the bruise that was already forming.

Oliver shook his head quickly. "I'm fine," he told Madame Hooch who had been inquiring.

Oliver remounted his broom and gave his entire team a stern look, clearly telling them not to get distracted. A penalty had been rewarded to Gryffindor for the clear foul. The Gryffindor stands were alight with fury and protest at Flint's actions. Flint looked nonchalant.

Alicia Spinnet scored the penalty and the game resumed. A few minutes later, Harry caught sight of the snitch and outflew Terrence Higgs by a hair to catch it and secure a victory for Gryffindor. The stands erupted in celebration. The team gathered around Oliver.

Oliver knew he should be ecstatic. He should be yelling out in delight, he should be celebrating, he should be flying towards his team with unsuppressed joy. But for the first time in his whole life, Oliver didn't feel joy after winning a match.

He masked his troubled emotions well in front of his team as they jostled him joyfully to the locker rooms. Jack Sloper was, thankfully, fine from the fall, only sporting a bruise on his forearm, which he'd landed on quite heavily.

As Oliver was about to enter the locker room, he caught sight of the Slytherin team to his left, walking into their own locker room. He saw Flint trailing behind, looking preoccupied.

Oliver moved before he could stop himself.

"Marcus," he said, the name unfamiliar but beautiful on his lips.

Flint looked at him, his eyes glinting with hostility and suppressed emotion.

"Why did you…" Oliver's voice trailed off. His face then crumpled as he cast away his mask of happiness to reveal the hurt inside.

Flint's eyes suddenly changed, and Oliver recognized a glimmer of something familiar in the hazel depths. Yes, he'd seen that emotion before, on the night of the ball. Oliver's heart fluttered with hope.

"Go to Pomfrey," Flint said briskly, suddenly looking away. "Make sure you don't have a concussion or something."

"Marcus, I'm sorry…" Oliver said desperately. "I'm sorry for what I said that night, I didn't mean to – "

"Don't call me that," Flint spat. "And save your fucking apologies, Wood. I don't care."

"You do care," Oliver protested.

"So, what, Wood?" Flint retorted, his anger rising. "You rejected _me._ What the hell do you want now? Just leave me the fuck alone. You made yourself perfectly clear that night, you annoying shit."

Oliver stood his ground, though his heart pricked with guilt.

"You're clearly still with Diggory," Flint continued, spitting out Cedric's name in hatred. "You made your choice. Now, unless anything has changed, I don't want to be around you."

Oliver froze, again reminded of the reality of it all. Flint wanted to be with him. He'd rejected Flint.

 _Fuck,_ he swore to himself. _What the hell do I want? I'm here, clearly annoying the hell out of Flint, and I don't even know if I can say yes to him. Merlin, this is such a mess. I don't even know_ what _I want. I… I want Marcus, I want him so bad but we can't… we can't possibly be together, he's the Slytherin bloody captain… Half my house detests him… I can't do that to Cedric… Bloody hell…_

Flint's eyes met his again and Oliver knew Flint could see right through his emotions, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"See," Flint said, his eyes suddenly weary and glazed over with hostility. "I told you nothing has changed. Now stay away from me, Wood, or you'll wish you had."

"But I – " Oliver started, not even knowing what he was about to say.

"Fuck off," Flint spat. "And take our time slot tonight."

"Time slot?"

"You wanted that 7 o'clock time slot, right?" Flint said coolly.

Oliver nodded. He'd wanted to book the pitch for Gryffindor at 7 o'clock but the Slytherins had already taken that time slot. Instead he'd booked the time slot at 6, just before the Slytherins.

"Take our time slot," Flint said. "We'll practice at 5 and be done well before 7. I don't want to risk bumping into you. I never want to see you unless I have to."

With that Flint turned around and walked off. Oliver buried his face in his hands, letting out a frustrated cry.

* * *

"Does my hair look all right?" Harry fretted, much to Ron, Seamus and Hermione's amusement.

"It looks fine, Harry," Hermione reassured him.

"And this shirt, does it – "

"It looks perfect, Harry," Hermione said patiently. "Honestly, you look really good."

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed, while Seamus gave him a thumbs up.

Harry sighed. When did he become such a worrier? This time he couldn't help himself, though. He wanted to look nice for his date with Draco at Hogsmeade. He had quite a lot of time to spare, as Oliver had told him that Quidditch practice had been postponed for an hour or so.

Draco was coming around to pick him up in a few minutes and Harry couldn't help but feel like he didn't look good enough. Draco was beautiful, after all, and Harry didn't know how he compared. He was dressed in simple black slacks, a green shirt that matched his eyes and a simple black leather jacket. He wore a pair of dark cotton gloves and a black wool scarf that was wrapped around his neck.

"Stop worrying!" Hermione insisted, seeing Harry's face.

"I know, I know," Harry sighed. "I'm just nervous."

"Where's the ferret taking you, anyway?" Ron asked, though his eyes gleamed with mirth, speaking about the blond in a much less hostile tone than he usually did.

"To some restaurant," Harry said. "It's called Marco's, or something like that."

Seamus gaped at him. "Marco's? That's the most expensive restaurant in Hogsmeade. Merlin, Harry!"

Harry eyed him in shock. He hadn't realized. "Seriously?"

"Yes!" Hermione said, wondering how Harry didn't know.

"Well, Malfoy's loaded," Ron said, shrugging.

"Yeah…" Harry said idly. "Wow."

"So, Ron," Seamus turned to the redhead, grinning. "Excited for Astoria? Where are you guys meeting?"

Ron blushed. "We agreed to meet at Honeyduke's in half an hour."

"What are you two doing?" Hermione asked, smiling. Harry could detect, however, the slight tension in her voice.

"Going for a walk," Ron said. "Then I'll let her choose a restaurant to eat at. I don't know what she likes, after all."

"Sounds good, mate!" Seamus clapped him on the back. "Have a great time."

"Thanks, Shay," Ron said.

A few minutes later, a knock came on the common room door and Harry went to answer it. When he looked outside he nearly gasped. Draco was standing there, dressed in an elegant, and perfectly tailored gray coat, a white shirt underneath and black pants. His eyes glittered in the soft light of the afternoon, and Harry couldn't help but stare.

"You look beautiful," he blurted out, blushing after he'd realized what he said.

Draco blinked, then smiled. "Thank you," he said, his eyes revealing how much Harry's comment meant to him. "You're not so bad yourself."

Harry chuckled and moved forward to kiss him. They stayed like that for a while, just reveling in the feel of their hands wrapped around each other.

Draco kissed a spot on the side of Harry's neck gently. "Let's go," he whispered.

Draco led Harry down the streets of Hogsmeade until they'd reached Marco's. Harry marveled at the restaurant. It definitely had an upper class clientele, as Harry saw many people there dressed in elegant fur coats, decked up with jewels and expensive accessories. Harry suddenly felt horribly underdressed.

Draco must have noticed Harry's doubt because he tightened his grip on the Gryffindor's hand and leaned in for a kiss. "You look amazing."

Harry smiled and suddenly all his worries disintegrated. As long as Draco was there with him, nothing else mattered.

"Malfoy," Draco said confidently when the maître-d' asked for the reservation name.

Upon hearing the name, the small man perked up and gestured quickly for them to follow him. "Certainly. This way, Mr. Malfoy."

They were led to a table at the back of the room, secluded from the rest of the restaurant. Draco insisted that Harry settle comfortably on the sofa side of their table despite the green-eyed boy's protests.

Though Harry had been slightly intimidated by the expensive restaurant's appearance, Draco's company soon had him enjoying himself thoroughly.

"Order anything you want," Draco said as they skimmed the menus. "It's on me."

Harry opened his mouth, wanting to insist that he could pay for himself. "But –"

Draco raised a hand to interrupt him. "Please, Harry. What's the use of coming from one of the richest wizarding families in Europe if I can't pay for a dinner I arranged with my own boyfriend?"

Sensing Harry's lingering doubt, he leaned over and kissed Harry's hand. "I insist."

Harry had smiled then, unable to deny the grey-eyed boy.

In between their appetizers and their entrées, Harry remembered something.

"Hey, Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know why Zabini is suddenly so friendly with Seamus? He came to our common room the other day to talk to him."

Draco chuckled. "First of all, do call him Blaise."

"All right," Harry laughed. "Blaise, then."

"And to answer your question, I think he rather likes the Irishman. Which is beyond my comprehension, of course. The boy's barmy."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "He's my friend. Don't be rude."

Draco smirked. "All I'm saying is that Seamus is rather… easily excitable, shall we say? Not exactly suited to a Slytherin."

Harry shrugged, considering the two together. He suddenly remembered the small smile Blaise had shown when he'd been paired with Seamus during Potions. How did he not see it then?

"As long as Blaise doesn't hurt him," Harry sighed. "I don't want to see him hurt."

"Ever the Gryffindor."

Harry blushed. Draco smirked but stopped immediately when he saw how adorable Harry looked with his cheeks flushing red.

"God you're beautiful," Draco said suddenly.

Harry's blush intensified. "I really don't know what you see in me. Other than me being the Boy-Who-Lived, obviously."

"What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "Well, it's just… most of the time when people say they like me in… in _that_ way, it's just because I'm the Chosen One. They shower me with attention, they flaunt themselves around me… all for my image. I just can't see why anyone could see anything else in me."

"Harry," Draco said firmly, piercing grey meeting green. "You're too good for those people who only see you for your image. You are so much more than that. What do I see in you? I see bravery, I see chivalry… But I see innocence too. It's rare to see innocence like yours, Harry. The world hasn't taken that from you and I love that about you. When I look at you I see hope and I see beauty. I see you. Not your image. I'm not dating you because you're the Boy-Who-Lived. I'm dating you because…"

Draco paused here, suddenly lowering his eyes.

"What?" Harry said, his voice coming out a lot softer than he'd intended.

"Because I've fallen in love with you, Harry."

Harry stared back at Draco in wonder. Draco had just told him that he loved him. Draco loved him. Harry expected the voices in his mind to erupt, with opinions flashing here and there. But when he sought them out, he only found one voice in his mind and that was his own. And it could only say one word: _Yes._ Yes, this was right. Yes, Draco was right for him. Yes, there was no doubt in his mind, that yes…

"I love you too."

Harry leaned forward, placing his fork back down on his plate. Draco copied him and soon enough Harry's hand was cupping Draco's cheek.

"Kiss me?" he whispered.

Draco smirked. "With pleasure."

And it that secluded table at Marco's, while the other diners were enjoying their food and being merry, the youngest Malfoy and the Boy-Who-Lived locked in a passionate, yet tender, kiss.

* * *

When Draco had led Harry up to his common room in the Gryffindor tower, the door was suddenly flung open.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, quickly enveloping the raven-haired boy in a tight embrace. "Thank Merlin you're safe! We were so worried!"

"What?" Harry exclaimed in confusion. Behind Hermione, he recognized the scared faces of Ron, Astoria, who was huddled closely to her date in fear, Seamus, Dean and Neville.

"What's going on?" Draco demanded, his voice stricken with worry.

"There's been an attack!" Ron choked out as Harry and Draco were ushered inside the common room. "Dumbledore has given strict orders for every student to stay in the nearest common room until further notice, for our safety."

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"There was a Death-Eater attack on campus," Hermione explained, her voice streaked with grief. "On the Quidditch pitch."

Harry's eyes widened. "What happened?!"

"The threat has been contained…" Hermione continued. Ron had his arm around her in support. "The Death-Eaters appeared out of nowhere, we were told. Apparently there was a team practicing there, and the Death-Eaters caught them by surprise and started attacking. Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape and some other professors got to the pitch and defeated the Death-Eaters… there were seven in total. They brought all the injured to the Hospital Wing immediately. There are no casualties… as of yet." She started to tear up. "But some people aren't in good shape, Harry. They could die."

"Who was on the pitch when they attacked?" Harry demanded.

"We don't know which team it was, except that it wasn't ours." Ron said. "Thank _God._ "

Draco's brow furrowed in worry. "Shit," he said. "Then it could be mine."

Harry looked up at his boyfriend, his head still swirling with the news. A Death-Eater attack on campus. Potential casualties. _Merlin, no._

Suddenly, Percy rushed down the staircase and hurried over to them.

"Harry, thank God you're safe."

"Perce!" Ron exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"Professor McGonagall had to go to the Hospital Wing," Percy explained. "She's left me in charge."

"Have you accounted for everyone in the house?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Give me a second," Percy said, brandishing his wand and casting a spell. "This spell will bring up the roster of Gryffindor students and tell us who's still not in the common room. I've already contacted Snape to tell him that Astoria's here, and Sprout too to tell her that Susan Bones is here."

Harry glanced around, suddenly noticing that the entire common room was filled with bustling students. He could make out the shapes of Fred and George… Jack Sloper… Katie Bell and Ginny… But he couldn't possibly count them all.

"Here it is," Percy said, and suddenly a list of names appeared in the air in front of him. There were red ticks next to most of the names. Percy's eyes ran down the list before he froze and went pale.

All the people were accounted for except one.

Oliver.

"Where is he?" Percy gasped, his eyes wide with worry. "Bloody hell, Oliver. Where is he?!"

"Jack!" Harry yelled. The brunet came running over. "Have you seen Oliver?"

Jack's eyes were alight with worry. "No, the last time I saw him he was with Katie and –"

Suddenly the door opened and in stepped Oliver himself. He was instantly confused by the hoard of people gathered in the common room, and even more confused when Jack, Hermione, Ron and Harry all ran forward to embrace him in relief.

"Oliver James Wood, I am going to _castrate_ you!" Percy shouted. "Where have you been?!"

Oliver looked at his friend as if he'd gone mad. "I was with Cedric, why?"

Percy's face suddenly crumpled to reveal just how worried he'd been. He rushed over to his best friend and hugged him.

"You bastard," he said. "You had me so worried."

Oliver smiled, though he was still confused by everything. "Um, Perce, as much as I appreciate this sudden display of friendship… What in the blazing hells is going on?"

Percy, Ron and Hermione quickly brought the keeper up to speed.

"Which team was practicing?" Oliver asked worriedly, thanking Merlin that it hadn't been Gryffindor. He knew it hadn't been Hufflepuff either, as he'd just been with Cedric.

"That's just it, we still don't know. The professors haven't informed us of anything more."

And then Oliver's eyes widened.

"What time did the attack happen?" he demanded.

"At around 5:15."

Oliver's face went white. He felt like he was going to be sick.

" _Take our time slot instead," Flint said. "We'll practice at 5 and be done well before 7. I don't want to risk bumping into you. I never want to see you unless I have to."_

"Slytherin," Oliver choked out.

"What?" Draco asked.

"It was the Slytherin team practicing."

The students around him erupted in panicked whispers and gasps, but Oliver didn't hear them.

He had only one thought running through his mind again and again, suffocating him.

Marcus had been on the pitch.

 _Oh God no._

* * *

That's my update for the day, folks. I always end up posting 2 chapters at a time for some reason. Maybe that's my own impatience getting in the way :P Mainly because I want to get writing again, but I don't feel like I can quite muster the motivation to before all the existing chapters have been posted.

xoxo Lacey


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

The morning after the attack, the school had been secured, and the students were deemed safe enough to roam the castle as they usually did. Students travelled in packs, though, always cautious when going anywhere secluded. No one ventured into the Quidditch Pitch. Even Oliver had stayed away, insisting that his team practice in the smaller fields on the other end of the castle.

Harry had lain awake all night, too afraid to sleep in case he'd have nightmares of Voldemort's return. When breakfast time came and all the Gryffindors were gathered in the common room, the usual knock came at the door.

"I suppose that's Malfoy, mate," Ron said. The Slytherin, along with Astoria, had been escorted back to his dormitory that night by Snape.

Harry answered the door but found that he couldn't look Draco in the eye. In a flash of memories he saw the old Draco… the Draco he used to hate, the Draco that had taunted him, the Draco that he'd associated with Voldemort… with Death-Eaters… He was suddenly overwhelmed with disgust.

"What's wrong?" Draco said, stepping inside so as not to let in the cold air.

Harry then turned on the blond, all the frustration and anger and sleep deprivation catching up to him.

"Was it you?!"

Draco's face took on an expression of shock and confusion at the venom in Harry's tone.

"What?"

"Did you have something to do with the attack?"

" _What?_ "

The whole common room fell silent, listening to the exchange happening between the couple.

"Do you expect me to believe that just days after we start going out, Voldemort randomly attacks Hogwarts?" Harry yelled, his anger clearly uncontrollable.

Hermione moved forward in worry but Ron stopped her, knowing that Harry just needed to be left to rage when it came to Voldemort.

"You know I had nothing to do with this," Draco said, his voice tight with suppressed hurt.

"Did Voldemort tell you to get close to me? Are you spying for him, is that what it is?"

"No!"

"I don't believe you!"

Draco's mouth dropped open, staring at Harry like he was a completely different person. A voice in Harry's mind begged him to see reason but Harry ignored it, too overwhelmed by his hatred of Voldemort. He was too trusting. He should have never let his guard down. He should have sensed this attack coming!

Meanwhile, Draco had composed himself, letting a mask of cold, hard indifference fall over his face.

"What you believe, then, _Potter,_ is quite simply wrong," he said.

"Oh, back to _Potter_ now?" Harry sneered.

"When you are being unreasonable, yes."

"Me being unreasonable?!" Harry made a noise of mock disbelief. "I was being stupid! I was being stupid for trusting a two-faced git like you! For all I know you're a bloody spy relaying information to your Death-Eater parents!"

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't you dare say a word against my family. I've told you the truth about them."

"As if you haven't said shit about my parents in the past, Malfoy. And as for what you told me about your family, how do I know you're not lying? How could I ever have thought to trust someone like you?"

"Someone like me?"

"You're as good as a Death-Eater, Malfoy," Harry spat, his eyes weary. "You think you can suddenly be nice this year and make me forget the venomous brat you used to be – and for all I know, still are?"

Harry knew his words were harsh, but in the heated moment he believed everything he said. Draco had once been proudly preaching the superiority of purebloods and the power of Voldemort. The reminder of what Draco used to be, _who_ Draco used to be… and knowing that he was now _involved_ with him, filled Harry with disgust.

Draco didn't say anything, merely stared at Harry with cold eyes, his nostrils flaring.

"I don't know why I ever told you I loved you," Harry said, his eyes sobering into a cool glare.

Draco drew back as though he'd been hit. He quickly masked his gesture with one of his classic looks of utter contempt.

"Fuck you, Potter," he whispered softly but forcefully as he left the common room.

The Gryffindors all seemed stuck in time, none of them daring to move. They'd been so shocked by Harry's outburst that nobody knew quite what to do.

Hermione moved first and this time Ron didn't stop her. She caught Harry by the shoulders. Harry seemed to deflate at her touch, his anger seeping out of him, leaving his face crumpled in agony. He suddenly broke into sobs, and Hermione quickly held him to her shoulder, much as Harry himself had done that night when Hermione had been upset about Ron and Astoria.

"Shhh… it'll be all right," Hermione soothed, patting Harry's back gently.

"I should have sensed it, 'Mione… I should have stopped him…"

"There was no way you could have known, Harry."

"I shouldn't have let him win again… It's all my fault."

Hermione pulled back to look at Harry sternly. "It is _not_ your fault."

"She's right, it's not," a voice repeated.

Harry turned to see that it had been Jack Sloper. Many more people in the common room echoed his sentiments.

Hermione smiled gently at Harry. "It wasn't your fault, Harry. Just because you're the Boy-Who-Lived, doesn't mean you hold Voldemort's actions on your shoulders."

"She's right, mate," Ron said. "We're all with you."

And there was not one head in the common room that didn't nod in agreement at Ron's words.

* * *

Harry looked up when Hermione entered the library and walked over to where he sat alone at one of the tables. He'd been studying for the past couple of hours while his friends, Ron, Seamus and Dean, were down in the kitchens. Harry had insisted that he had to get some studying in, considering the amount of procrastination he'd done. But in truth, Harry just wanted to be alone. His head was still hurting from the news about Voldemort's attack.

"Hey, 'Mione," Harry said, then noticed the frown on his friend's face. "What's wrong?"

Hermione waved her hand about, clearly tired and weary. "It's not important."

"No," Harry said, sitting up properly. "Whatever it is, it's clearly bothering you. And that makes it important to me."

Hermione sighed. "Nothing, it's just… Ron and Astoria are officially together."

Harry frowned, his heart aching for Hermione, though he knew that this development between Ron and the Slytherin had been on the horizon for a while. Ron had told him of the success of their date at Hogsmeade the other night.

"I'm so sorry," Harry said, though he knew that wouldn't help.

"It's okay, I don't really want to talk about it."

"But – "

Hermione held her hand up in interruption. "No, my own matters can wait. I came here to talk about something else."

"What?"

"About what you said to Draco earlier today."

Harry's eyes shifted back to the book he'd been reading.

"Harry," Hermione sighed as she sat down next to him. "You don't honestly think Draco had anything to do with it?"

Harry sighed in frustration. "I don't know, 'Mione, but can I really take the risk and trust him?"

"He loves you," Hermione said, smiling sadly. "And you trusted him enough to date him."

"Maybe that was a mistake," Harry confessed, though the voices in his mind were battling.

 _You_ love _him,_ one insisted. _He was right. It was never a mistake, don't you say that._

 _He's the son of a Death-Eater,_ another sneered. _How can you trust him? He's not worth the risk that Voldemort puts forth._

But even as these voices ran wild in Harry's mind, there was a sadness in his heart that he knew he himself had caused, for that part of him missed Draco dearly.

"Harry, I know you," Hermione said gently. "I know you wouldn't have agreed to go out with him if you thought it wasn't right, or if you thought there was something fishy about him. And you certainly wouldn't have told him that you loved him."

Harry's eyes fell shut, remembering the night at Marco's, when he and Draco had confessed their love for each other. He had meant it. He had, at the time. But now… could he really love Draco with the memory of what he had once been?

"I didn't mean to be so harsh to him," Harry admitted. "My anger was out of control. But how can I love Draco, Hermione? He's Draco Malfoy. Last year I hated him to the core and not without reason!" From the corner of the library, Madame Pince shushed him. He lowered his voice instantly. "You know that."

"But he's changed," Hermione insisted. "I know he has. He has been nothing but courteous to me ever since you and him got together. And Ron would never admit it, but Draco's been kind to him as well. To all the Gryffindors."

"I know that. But what if it's all an act? What if his parents really are Death-Eaters? What if he lied about what they really were?"

"What they really are?"

Harry remembered that Hermione didn't know about Draco's claim that his parents spied for the Order.

"Never mind," Harry sighed. "Look… I just don't think I can be with Draco right now. Every time I think of Voldemort… every time I think of my parents and every cruel thing he's done… I think of Draco and how he may be a Death-Eater himself, or soon to be one. Hell, how can I trust him when he tells me that he's got nothing to do with them?"

"You know you can trust him, Harry," Hermione insisted. "I've seen the way he looks at you. He loves you, and I honestly believe he'd never lie like that."

"You try to see the good in everyone, Hermione," Harry said, smiling sadly. "But I can't take the risk. For all I know, Draco was only with me to serve me up on a platter to Voldemort. And I can't take that risk and trust him. Not when lives are on the line."

Hermione sighed, knowing that when Harry had made his mind up there was no changing it. She lay a gentle hand on Harry's own.

Before she could open her mouth to say something, she noticed Cedric Diggory coming up to their table.

"Hey, Harry, Hermione," he greeted them with a kind nod. "Have you seen Jack Sloper around?"

They both shook their heads.

"The library's probably not the best place to look for Jack," Harry chuckled.

Cedric laughed. "No, I don't suppose so."

"Is there something you wanted from him? We could tell him when we see him in the common room." Hermione offered.

"Yeah, could you give this back to him for me?" Cedric asked, holding out a broomstick and handing it to Hermione. "I borrowed his for practice when I couldn't find the keys to my locker to get my own."

"No problem," Hermione said.

"Thanks."

Harry then noticed that Cedric was cradling his other arm around his waist.

"What's wrong with your hand?" Harry asked concernedly.

"Oh, I think I pulled a muscle in my wrist or something," Cedric said, frowning down at it. "I hope it's nothing too bad."

"You should get Madame Pomfrey to look at it," Hermione suggested.

"Yeah, I was just on my way to the Hospital Wing," Cedric said. "I'll see you guys later. And thanks again."

When Cedric had left, Hermione turned back to Harry.

"You know I'll support you whatever you choose to do," she said softly. "But listen… do you remember when we first met, in the train carriage four years ago?"

Harry nodded. Of course he remembered that day. It was one of the most vivid of memories he had.

"Well," Hermione continued. "I didn't like you or Ron at first."

Harry let out a silent chuckle. "You found us annoying, I know."

"Not just that," Hermione admitted. "I just didn't think you two were suited to me at all. I thought we were too different to be anything more than acquaintances. But do you know why I kept hanging around you guys?"

"Why?"

"Well, I knew I liked you two as people. So, against my better judgment, I decided to take a leap of faith."

"Leap of faith?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "I took a leap of faith regarding you two, because no, I didn't know whether you two would be good friends for me, or even if I could trust you with anything."

"Why did you take it, then? The leap of faith, I mean."

"Because I knew there was a possibility that we could be great friends. And I'd come to Hogwarts to make friends. No one, no one but you two, anyway, paid much attention to me that first year. And so I… I took a leap of faith with you two… and here we are. It was worth it. And it turns out that if I hadn't taken that leap, it would have been the biggest regret of my life."

Harry smiled at Hermione, his eyes showing how grateful he was that she trusted him enough to share this with him. He knew it was a personal story.

"Thank you," he breathed. "For taking that leap of faith. I might not have you here with me if you hadn't. And I wouldn't know what to do if that had been the case."

Hermione smiled in return. "Well, I'm glad I took it."

"But why'd you tell me that, 'Mione?"

"Well," Hermione continued. "I'm just trying to make a point that sometimes, when you're not sure of a person, it pays off to take a leap of faith. Especially if the outcome has the potential to be a lasting good in your life."

With that, Hermione got up. "Just something to think about, Harry. I'll see you later, all right?"

As Hermione walked away, Harry stared after her, considering her words.

Should he take a leap of faith with Draco? Could he really risk that? The image of Voldemort flashed into his mind again, cruel and unyielding. He thought again of the sight of Zabini and Higgs, both sporting an unbelievable array of injuries. Harry clenched his eyes shut.

 _If only it were that easy to just take a leap of faith, 'Mione._

* * *

Oliver had tried to find time all day to slip away for a while to visit the Hospital Wing in the hope of seeing Marcus, but with class after class and then Quidditch practice afterwards, he was unable to.

He had, however, heard that only Blaise Zabini and Terrence Higgs had been discharged from Madame Pomfrey's care as of yet. Oliver had seen the two in the Great Hall. Zabini had his left arm in a sling and sported a great deal of bruises. His arms and shins had been bandaged up tightly. Higgs had escaped the attack with a sprained ankle, a broken wrist and a large cut on his bottom lip, which had been sown up. Both boys looked horrible, but they could walk and talk with relative ease.

Oliver worried about how bad the others must be if Zabini and Higgs were the best ones off. He had heard rumor after rumor about Marcus' condition, from having three broken bones and heavy burns to his face to having been subjected to the Cruciatus curse. The inconsistency of the rumors only had Oliver worrying even more.

After Quidditch practice, Oliver finally had time to rush over to the Hospital Wing, still dressed in his Quidditch gear.

He ran into the room where all the beds were set up, scanning the room for Marcus. His eyes gazed over Urquhart's bed. The chaser was unconscious, his head wrapped up in bandages. On either side of him were Derrick and Bole. The beaters were both awake, talking to each other quietly, though their legs were encased in casts.

"Mr. Wood?"

Oliver turned to see Madame Pomfrey scowling at him.

"Visiting hours are over," she said sternly.

"Madame Pomfrey, please," Oliver found himself begging. "I just… I need to see Marcus Flint. I'll only be a second. Just… please."

"Mr. Flint is still unconscious," Madame Pomfrey said, her brow furrowed. "He suffered the worst injuries."

Alarm shot through Oliver like an arrow.

"I need to see him."

"Unless you have special permission to visit Mr. Flint outside visiting hours, I must ask you to leave," Madame Pomfrey continued, her voice firm.

" _Please,_ " Oliver said desperately. "You don't understand. I made a huge mistake and… and I just need to tell him that… that he needs to be okay… that I need him."

Madame Pomfrey looked at Oliver then, straight into his eyes. After a moment, she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"You have five minutes, Wood," she said before walking away to treat Derrick's leg.

Oliver's eyes widened in gratitude before he rushed to the other side of the room, pulling back the remaining curtain. It was then that he saw Marcus lying in the hospital bed, forearms and biceps wrapped in white bandages. His forehead was wrapped too, as was his left shin. Under his shirt, which had the first few buttons open, Oliver saw bandages wrapped around his chest, which was rising and falling gently.

Oliver rushed to Flint's bedside, his face finally letting itself crumple into a sob.

"Oh, God, Marcus," he whispered, holding the Slytherin's hand in a gentle grip and pressing his lips to his fingers. "Marcus I'm so sorry. God, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have been you on that pitch. It should've been me. And if I hadn't bothered you… If I hadn't been so cruel, you wouldn't have had any reason to trade time slots. You wouldn't be lying here if it weren't for me…" his voice trailed off as he sobbed quietly. Marcus could die and it would be his fault.

"I need you to wake up, Marcus. Please. I've been so horrible to you but I need you to wake up because I need you. I need you so much. I know that now. I've been such a bloody coward, trying to hide from my feelings. But I've known for a long time now that what I feel for you I haven't felt for anyone in my whole life. I want to be with you. Screw everyone else. It's you I want. But I need you to wake up so we can be together… please, Marcus…

I'll tell Cedric. I will. I don't want to hurt him, of course, he's been nothing but good to me, but I know he's not the right one for me. You are right for me. You make me feel things I've never felt before. When we kissed for the first time I couldn't imagine ever experiencing anything better.

I know we've had our fights… Hell, we're archrivals. But I will never hurt you anymore. Because hurting you hurts me… It's true. I care about you so much… Just wake up… Please… I need to make sure you know… You need to know…

I love you, Marcus… And I'm not just saying that because you're lying in a hospital bed. I really do love you. I've never felt this way about anybody. I love everything about you, from your strong hands, the way you fly, the feel of your lips, hell, I even love your crooked teeth. You're beautiful to me… God, I've been so cruel, haven't I? But I promise you, if you wake up – _when_ you wake up – I'll show you how much I love you. I just need you to wake up. You need to wake up."

As Oliver sat there, willing himself not to break into sobs again, something caught his eye. His forearm guard. Oliver looked at it closely, not willing to believe what he saw. The silver metal that lined the leather pad was beginning to rust.

Marcus had told him that the charm on his Quidditch gear would last for as long as Marcus was able… for as long as he had enough magical energy.

Oliver let out a cry of grief as he clutched Marcus' hand again.

"You can't leave me," he sobbed. "Please, I need you, Marcus. I love you so much."

Unbeknownst to Oliver, someone had been listening in on his entire monologue.

Cedric Diggory stood behind the curtain with a freshly applied wrap around his wrist. His eyes flickered as he bore witness to Oliver's sobs.

* * *

"Harry Potter!"

Harry paused in the hallway he'd been walking down and turned around, only to see a hand rushing up to meet his face in a sharp slap.

Harry blinked, dazed. His cheek stung with the force of the slap. He looked up and nearly gasped when he saw the murderous glare of Pansy Parkinson directed at him.

"What?" Harry breathed, not finding any other words.

"How _dare_ you!" she shrieked.

"What?" Harry repeated, his voice rising in surprise.

"I cannot believe you said what you did to Draco," she hissed. "And they call you the Gryffindor Golden Boy? More like the ignorant, short-tempered bastard!"

Harry was speechless. He didn't know what to say. Meanwhile, Pansy continued her enraged rant.

"You assume things about Draco that are completely absurd and you have the gall to publically humiliate him," she yelled. "You Gryffindors complain about _us_ being prejudiced and snotty but you're just the same!"

"I – I didn't mean t –"

"Oh, you didn't, did you, Potter?" Pansy retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do you think you have the right to go around claiming that you know everything about Slytherins' ties, or rather, _lack of ties,_ to You-Know-Who? You know _nothing,_ Potter."

"I wasn't claiming to know anything about Slytherins' business with Voldemort," Harry protested, his eyes blazing.

"God, you're thick," Pansy spat. "I can't believe I thought you could be good for Draco. And I don't know why he told you he loved you either, Potter."

Harry winced.

"You're lucky Derrick and Bole are still in the Hospital Wing, or I'd get them to beat the shit–"

"Pansy!"

Harry and Pansy turned to see Daphne walking up to them.

"Yes, Daph?" Pansy asked, still staring murderously at Harry.

"Come on, you don't want to get a detention for doing anything bad to him, do you?" Daphne said gently.

"He deserves it for what he did to Draco," Pansy insisted, her eyes fiery still.

"Maybe," Daphne said, shrugging. "But what's that going to solve? Just go to breakfast, Pans."

Pansy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine," she bit out. She stalked away, but not before glaring at Harry over her shoulder.

When Pansy had disappeared around the corner, Daphne turned to Harry.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling his cheek. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Tell her to leave me alone."

Daphne sighed gently, a strand of blond hair falling against her eyes. She moved a delicate hand to push her hair back behind her ear.

"I don't like violence," she said softly.

"Thank you," Harry said, sighing. He liked Daphne and hoped that she hadn't been offended by his previous actions to Draco.

"Do you think we're all like Voldemort, Harry?" Daphne then asked. Harry could detect nothing more than curiosity in her tone.

"No," Harry admitted. "I just have a paranoia when it comes to Slytherin and their previous ties to him. It's resulted in many bad things happening in the past. Things I don't want to repeat."

"So you're just going to distrust the entire house?" Daphne asked, her voice soft yet inquisitive.

Harry shook his head again. "I didn't mean to leave that impression."

Daphne tilted her head to one side as if considering something. "I know you didn't. You're too good a person to do that."

"Listen, Harry," she continued. "I know your weariness of our house is well-founded, and some may say it's completely justified. Before Voldemort returned, we were expected to give praise to him, to uphold our pureblood status, to treat others with contempt. I know it must be hard to get over that… I mean, a lot of us _were_ horrible back then, some of us still are… But when Voldemort returned and began torturing so many of us, so many of our families, we realized that our admiration of him was completely unfounded. My family defected immediately, though we didn't have a great connection with the Dark Lord even before his return. I don't know one family in the entire house that didn't defect, that is, if they had any sort of allegiance with Voldemort in the first place. The point is things have changed now, Harry."

"How can I be sure, though?" Harry sighed, showing his weariness.

"You can't," Daphne admitted. "But how many times have you been given the benefit of the doubt?"

"Lots of times," Harry confessed.

"What did you do to deserve it that I haven't done? Or that Pansy or Blaise or Terrence hasn't?" Daphne asked, though there was no malice in her tone.

Harry looked at her in understanding, realizing her point.

"I know you dislike the principles of Slytherin as a house in general," Daphne continued gently. "But these are our principles that have been defined by our characteristics. We all grew up being taught to worship the Dark Lord and to denounce those who weren't of our status. But it is not our fault that we were brought up this way. That's just the way things are. What you don't understand is that many of us Slytherins grew up without having much of a choice other than to obey our parents and behave as they wished us to. But so many of us have changed now, and we're making better lives for ourselves."

"Daphne, I…" Harry began, awed by her words. He hadn't looked at it that way. "I'm sorry if I offended you by what I said to Draco. I've just… I guess I've just grown up with this hatred for Slytherin stemmed from my hatred of Voldemort. And because of the way I was treated by so many of you during my first two years."

Daphne nodded. "And that's justified. You _were_ treated poorly by many Slytherins."

Harry nodded. "But that's no reason for me to continue blindly hating you, especially those of you who haven't done anything wrong… like you. I'm sorry, Daphne."

Daphne smiled. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Harry. I was never mad at you. I just thought I'd tell you our side of things."

Harry looked at her, his eyes brimming with gratitude. "Thank you. I suppose I'll try to apologize to Pansy… If she doesn't hex me."

Daphne laughed. "Good luck with that."

Harry smiled.

"Will you talk to Draco, you think?" Daphne asked.

Harry flinched, suddenly remembering the blond boy.

"I… I don't know," he sighed. "I still don't think I can trust him enough to be with him, you know?"

Daphne nodded sadly in understanding.

"He loves you, you know," she said.

"How are you so sure?"

"Because he spent the day crying in his bedroom," she said, her eyes pained by the memory. "He wouldn't let anyone in. He'll deny it, of course, Malfoys don't cry after all. But I stood by his door for a little while, I was so worried. And from there I could hear his sobs. He was torn, Harry."

Harry's eyes matched Daphne's, brimming with pain and sadness. He felt a wave of regret overwhelm him. As much as he now distrusted Draco, he never wanted to cause him that much pain.

"I'm not trying to guilt trip you into doing anything, Harry," Daphne suddenly said. "Just thought you'd… like to know."

"Anyway," Daphne said. "I'd better go now before Pansy wonders where I've wandered off to."

Harry nodded at the pretty blond. "Thank you, Daphne. For everything."

"No problem, Harry," she said as she walked away.

Harry stared after her, replaying their conversation in his mind over and over again, hating himself more each time.

* * *

Seamus scowled as he looked down at his cupcakes that he had pulled out of the oven about an hour before. He'd patriotically decorated them with green icing, but the icing hadn't been cold enough so it dripped down the sides of each cupcake, much to the Irishman's dismay.

He'd wanted to bake cupcakes for the Gryffindors to share in the common room that morning, because spirits had been low ever since the harrowing attack on the Quidditch pitch. But now it was nearly 12PM, and the cupcakes were looking sadder than everyone had been over the past few days.

"Yo, Finnigan!" came a menacing call from behind him.

Seamus sighed. _Urquhart,_ he thought miserably.

And he was right. The big, burly Slytherin walked right up to Seamus, eyeing his cupcakes with a mocking glare. Even through the bandages—he'd only been let out of the Hospital Wing hours before—the Slytherin's gaze was hard as ever.

"What are these?" he laughed mockingly. "Leftovers from yesterday's dinner, or part of your latest potions concoction?"

"Go away," Seamus sighed, turning away from the taller boy.

"Now now now, that's not so nice," Urquhart chuckled.

Seamus groaned inwardly. _So much for baking cupcakes to cheer everyone up,_ he thought.

"Urquhart," came a voice.

Seamus turned around and saw Blaise Zabini walking into the kitchens, poised as ever despite the bruises lining his jaw.

"Check these out, Blaise," Urquhart said, pointing at Seamus' cupcakes. "I didn't think cupcakes could look so bad. Figures, though, he's probably never eaten a good cupcake in his life."

Seamus opened his mouth to object, but Blaise beat him to it.

"Right, because you are so adept at baking yourself?" Blaise said smoothly. "I do recall you and Derrick refusing to help with the cake at the Malfoys' last Christmas dinner."

"That's a job for the house elves," Urquhart sneered.

"How would you know?" Blaise asked, tilting his head in question. "I heard all of yours quit. Or am I mistaken?"

Urquhart's gaze darkened and he took one menacing step forward. Seamus took a step back in fear, but Blaise held his ground, eyeing Urquhart with a calculated confidence. They stared at each other for a while, and just as Seamus was about to say something—anything—to break the silence, Urquhart stormed away.

Seamus' eyes widened. He opened his mouth to address Blaise, but nothing came out. Blaise, however, was smooth as ever, and turned to him as if nothing had happened.

"Who are they for?"

"What?" Seamus stuttered.

Blaise smirked, his eyes amused.

"The cupcakes."

"Oh!" Seamus exclaimed. "They're for my mates in the common room. Thought I'd… you know… cheer 'em up after what happened this week… but oh! You should have one! After what you've been through!" Seamus knew he was rambling now but he couldn't stop. "Have them all! Really, I…"

Blaise stopped his ramble with a chuckle.

"That's very kind of you," he said. "I wouldn't want to deprive your housemates of these homemade treats, but I'll try one."

Seamus looked nervous now. _You idiot,_ he thought about himself, _they probably taste horrid! Why'd you ask him to try one?_

Blaise selected one of the cupcakes—avoiding the ones that had been completely soaked in green icing—and took a bite. Seamus expected him to spit it out, but Blaise's face didn't change as he chewed, and swallowed.

"Thank you," he said.

"Are they okay?" Seamus asked worriedly.

Blaise nodded, his lips forming a small smile.

Seamus tilted his head and took one of the cupcakes to try himself. Upon his first bite, though, he scrunched up his face in disgust.

"Oh, _Merlin!"_ he exclaimed, sticking his tongue out.

"What's wrong?" Blaise chuckled.

"They're _horrid!"_ Seamus said. "How'd you keep a straight face eating that?!"

Blaise laughed this time, and Seamus realized how much he liked the sound of it.

"I've learned to keep a straight face while eating," Blaise explained. "Comes in handy at dinner parties."

Seamus joined in his laughter, as they both looked at the cupcakes.

"They are pretty bad, though," Seamus said, wiping a tear off his cheek.

When Blaise still kept a straight face, Seamus looked at him mischievously.

"Oh, come on," he said with a cheeky mock-glare. "They are bad."

He met the Slytherin's gaze, and after a few moments, Blaise's smirk broke out into an amused smile as his classic "stoic Slytherin" mask broke completely.

"Yeah, they're pretty bad," he laughed. "You probably don't want to offer them to your housemates."

"Merlin, they'd be sick," Seamus chuckled. "Though Jack could probably eat them all without noticing what they tasted like."

"Maybe you should give them to Urquhart."

"Right, since he's the king of cupcake judging, after all."

The two boys burst into laughter again.

* * *

Marcus Flint blinked the tiredness out of his eyes as he opened them after 24 straight hours in slumber. The first thing he noticed was that he was extremely tired. The next thing he noticed was that he could barely move his arms or legs. He grunted, trying to lift his head enough to see his surroundings.

He then saw that his arms and legs had been plastered in white bandages, as was his chest. That was when the memories came shooting like missiles into his mind.

flashback

" _Terrence!" Marcus screamed hoarsely as he saw the Slytherin seeker tossed heavily to the ground by a curse shot his way by a tawny-haired Death-Eater._

 _The Quidditch Pitch seemed to be alight with fireworks, except they weren't fireworks; they were spells shooting out of the wands of seven black-cloaked Death-Eaters._

 _To his right, Marcus saw Miles Bletchley letting out a terrified scream as he was levitated into the air. Behind him, Urquhart was lying on the ground, ominously still. Marcus searched the pitch wildly for his other players._

Merlin, let them be all right, _he begged._

 _And then he saw Derrick and Bole making a run for the exit when they were both hit with curses that had them fall to the ground immediately. A scream ripped through the air and Marcus turned to see Zabini writhing on the ground as a Death-Eater stood over him._

" _No!" Marcus heard Urquhart, who'd risen from where he'd been lying, scream._

" _Help me…" came a voice behind him._

 _Marcus turned around and saw Terrence lying on the ground._

 _He crawled over to his seeker, grunting with the effort it placed on his legs, which had been sliced quite badly by a Sectumsempra curse earlier._

" _Terry, are you okay?" he croaked out, his voice breaking._

" _God, it hurts," Terrence whimpered, clutching his wrist. "Marcus it hurts…"_

 _Marcus' heart clenched and he forced himself not to look away from his injured friend. Just as he was about to get his wand out to perform a healing spell, Terrence's eyes went wide._

" _Wh – "_

" _Marcus behind you!" Terrence screamed._

 _Before Marcus turned around, he heard one word that turned his blood to ice._

" _Crucio."_

end flashback

Marcus gasped.

 _Oh Merlin,_ he thought, his mind racing with the memory of the night before.

With a sudden panic, Marcus moved to get up and off his bed. He yelped at the pain it caused his chest.

"Whoa," came a voice. "Careful there."

Marcus felt hands supporting his back. He turned in curiosity and froze when he saw who it was.

Cedric Diggory.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

 _In a flash of black, the Dark Lord was standing before him, in the middle of the Great Hall._

 _He flashed Harry a leer, his eyes piercing white with malice._

" _You thought you could win this war, boy?" his voice echoed around the hall, followed by the terrified gasps of students._

 _And then Voldemort lunged._

" _No!" Harry screamed, the sound tearing out of his throat desperately. He reached forward but couldn't seem to move any further than a few steps._

 _Voldemort grasped a student – Harry couldn't see his face – by the back of his neck._

" _I quite like to see you suffer," Voldemort sneered. "And so I'll have you suffer a little longer. And for my kindness in not killing you all now, I'll take this one as my captive."_

 _And with that, Voldemort disappeared in a cloud of smoke, taking the student along with him._

" _No!"_

Harry gasped as he shot out his bed. He was covered in cold sweat. He looked around him wildly, his heart racing as he took in the familiar surroundings of his dorm room.

"Oh, Merlin…" he breathed, thinking back to his dream. Could it be a prophecy of some sort?

Harry didn't have time to think. He couldn't speculate when it came to Voldemort. Whether or not his dream meant something, he had to inform Dumbledore.

He leaped out of his bed, not bothering to grab his school robes to put over his pajamas. In his haste, he slammed his knee on his nightstand, covering his mouth to smother a yelp.

Despite Harry's efforts at silence, Ron had stirred and was now looking at Harry quizzically.

"It' s midnight," Ron said, yawning. "What are you doing?"

"I had a dream," Harry whispered urgently.

"Nightmare?"

"It was about Voldemort."

Ron was out of his bed in a second. "What kind of dream?"

"I can't tell you right now, I've got to go to Dumbledore."

Ron shook his head and grabbed his school robes and slippers. "You'll tell me while you tell him, 'cause I'm coming with you."

Harry nodded, grateful for his friend's support. They both rushed out into the corridor only to run into Hermione, who was jolted to the ground.

"What are you two idiots doing at this hour?" Hermione admonished.

"What are you doing?" Ron countered.

"I was up studying in the common room," Hermione explained. Though her eyes were sharp, her voice betrayed her tiredness. "I lost track of time."

"Harry had a dream about Voldemort, so we're going to Dumbledore," Ron said quickly. "You coming?"

Hermione's eyes lit in concern. "Of course."

The trio rushed down the hallways to Dumbledore's office, careful to be as silent as possible so as not to attract anyone who would inevitably ask them what they were doing out of bed after curfew.

When they reached the large door of Dumbledore's office, they stopped. Harry took a deep breath, his mind still shuddering in the wake of his dream.

"Lemon drop!" he said to the portrait.

The door opened in a flash. Harry, Hermione and Ron stepped inside.

"Professor Dumbledore we –" Ron started before he stopped, interrupted by the scene in front of him.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were sitting in front of Dumbledore at his main table, seeming to be in deep conversation with the headmaster.

Ron immediately brandished his wand, his eyes blazing in hostility out of instinct. Hermione tensed as well.

"Ron," Dumbledore said, putting a hand up, silently telling the redhead to lower his wand. "There is no need for alarm."

Ron looked flustered. "But professor, that's Lucius and Narcissa _Malfoy!_ "

"Yes," Dumbledore said slowly. "That they are."

"Wh… They're dangerous!" Ron protested, still eyeing the pair in disbelief.

Dumbledore sighed. "Why have you three come? It must be important that it couldn't wait until morning."

"It is, Professor," Harry said, stepping forward. "I had a dream about… about You-Know-Who."

Dumbledore's gaze instantly turned into one of concern. "What did the dream entail? Can you remember it?"

Harry glanced suspiciously at the Malfoys, who were simply sitting their nonchalantly. "I'd rather talk about it in… private."

"Lucius and Narcissa are no cause for concern, I assure you," Dumbledore said.

"But how, Professor?" Hermione spoke up. "Surely Harry is in his rights to be wary of them."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, you are right, Ms. Granger." He turned to the Malfoys. "Lucius, Narcissa… I wouldn't suppose you'd mind telling these three what the true nature of your visit is? You have it on my authority that they can be trusted."

Narcissa nodded slowly while Lucius simply tipped his head ever so slightly to one side.

"If you think it wise, Albus," Lucius said slowly, as though picking every word with purpose.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "You see, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Lucius and Narcissa are Death-Eaters…"

"I knew it," Ron hissed under his breath.

"…But they are also spies for the Order," Dumbledore finished.

"What?" Hermione gasped in shock.

"They defected to the Light side of the war last year, like most Slytherin families," Dumbledore continued. "They have sacrificed a lot to bring us valuable information that only those of Voldemort's inner circle are privy to. Their son, Draco, has also been very useful to the Order, as he has taken it upon himself to report on Voldemort's actions within the Malfoy Manor whenever he comes for a, shall we say, visit. And you have my _word_ they can all be trusted. They have proven their loyalty."

"My loyalty is to my family first," Lucius explained, his voice cold but strangely astute and firm. "And I know now that the Light side's victory will provide those whom I care about a greater future, while Voldemort's success will cause suffering all around… Suffering I myself have experienced under the Lord's own hand."

Ron, Hermione and Harry were silenced by Dumbledore's explanation and Lucius' admission. It seemed that the three of them needed a while to process the information. The Malfoys were on their side. And no matter how much they still despised the Malfoys, all three of them trusted Dumbledore's judgment with their lives.

Unlike Ron and Hermione, however, Harry's head was spinning with a whole other realization. Draco hadn't lied about his parents. All he'd accused Draco of had been completely false. He'd humiliated Draco publically, he'd mistrusted the blond, he'd said words he should never have even thought of saying…

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said, inviting the three to sit at his table. "Explain what your dream was."

And so recounted his dream down to the last detail he could remember.

Dumbledore's brow furrowed as he seemed to be deep in thought.

"What do you make of it, Professor?" Hermione asked, glancing at Harry in concern.

"It is possible that this dream had simply been triggered by the onslaught of news about Voldemort's recent attack and the effect that had on our students," Dumbledore considered. "But we should not be so quick to dismiss the dream as just that."

"Yes," Narcissa said, speaking for the first time. "It could mean more. It could be a glimpse into the future."

"Indeed," Lucius agreed. "Or Voldemort might be sending us a message through Mr. Potter."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Yes, those are all valid possibilities. Now, Harry, I trust that you will speak of your dream to no one else, so as not to raise panic."

"Of course, Professor."

"Now, there is nothing much we can do at the moment until we know more about Voldemort's intentions," Dumbledore continued. "I will personally relay the contents of your dream to the Order, and so it shall be discussed and taken into consideration in later proceedings."

Hermione, Ron and Harry all nodded.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Now, I do believe it is long after curfew. You three should go back to your common room."

The 4th years nodded and turned to leave.

"One more thing," Dumbledore interrupted. "I do trust that you three will keep the Malfoys' secret exactly what it is… a secret. If their true nature is revealed, it could jeopardize not only their place in Death-Eater rankings, but also their lives."

Hermione, Ron and Harry nodded. They knew they'd protect the Order's interests over anything else, no matter what they felt personally for the Malfoys.

"Good."

The trio said their thanks and goodbyes, still slightly wary of Lucius and Narcissa, before walking out of the office.

"Can you believe it?" Ron was saying as the walked back to the Gryffindor tower. "The Malfoys are on our side."

"Oh lower your voice, Ron, honestly," Hermione whispered.

Harry didn't hear them, however. He's mind was still on fire. Not from the dream, but from the guilt he felt. He had judged Draco too soon. He had let his hatred for Voldemort blind him from the truth. Dumbledore had said that Draco was a valuable member of the Order's plight for victory. Draco had changed. He had changed.

Why hadn't Harry believed him?

And more importantly, would Draco ever forgive him?

* * *

Oliver groaned as another quaffle flew past him and through the hoop. Katie Bell smiled triumphantly before him.

"That's five out of seven in, Ollie!" she called teasingly. "You losing your touch?"

Oliver rolled his eyes good-humoredly, knowing that his chaser was only jesting. "Sorry, Kate… I'm not in the best shape today."

"Anything wrong?" Katie asked in concern.

"I don't know," Oliver sighed. "Don't worry about it. Throw another seven at me?"

Katie obliged, flying back down to retrieve the quaffles.

The truth is Oliver did know what was wrong with him. He knew very well indeed. Marcus still hadn't woken up after the attack, and was now the only one still in care in the Hospital Wing, as Urquhart had been discharged earlier that morning.

Oliver had spent the night tossing and turning, his dreams plagued with imaginations of the attack and how much Marcus must have suffered.

Oliver ran a tired hand across his face, willing himself to remain composed.

But then as he got into stance when Katie prepared to throw a quaffle his way, something caught his eye and he looked down.

"Hey, Ollie?" Katie called as the quaffle she threw went straight through the hoop without Oliver attempting to catch it.

Oliver didn't hear her. He was staring at his forearm guard. Was he mistaken? No… surely not. The lining of his forearm guard was silver. It was all silver. Which meant that there was no rust.

Which meant that Marcus had enough magical energy for the charm to work again.

"Hey, Oliver, you okay?"

Oliver flew past a confused Katie. "Sorry, Katie, I've got to go."

"Wait, where? Oliver why are you flying so fast? Oliver!"

Oliver didn't turn back as he ran as fast as he could towards the Hospital Wing.

* * *

Harry had tried to talk to Draco all day. He'd tried to catch Draco's eye, even tried calling out his name, but all to no avail. The blond was avoiding him.

It was Potions class now, and Harry was sitting in his usual seat. Draco had sat next to him during Potions ever since they'd started going out. Harry hoped fervently that the Slytherin would still sit next to him so that he could talk to him.

When Draco entered, flanked by Blaise and Pansy, who sent a murderous glare Harry's way, he instantly turned away from Harry's table. Harry's heart dropped.

"Blaise?" Draco said coolly, obviously asking him to sit with the blond.

"I…" Blaise stuttered momentarily. Harry soon realized why. Ever since Draco had stopped sitting with Blaise in favor of Harry, Blaise had sat with Seamus.

But Draco's eyes sharpened into a warning. Blaise immediately let Draco through to sit next to him, his earlier hesitation quickly masked by the smooth gesture. The dark-haired boy glanced up when Seamus arrived a few minutes later.

"Sorry," he mouthed at the Irishman.

Seamus just shrugged.

"Hey, Harry, can I sit with you?" Seamus asked when he saw the empty chair next to him.

Though Harry's heart was still clenching with hurt, he smiled and nodded at his friend. "'Course, Shay."

When class had finished, Harry finally approached Draco.

"Draco, we need to talk," he said softly, his eyes pleading with the blond.

"Is that what you think, now, Potter?" Draco replied, his voice dripping with mock wonder.

"Draco, please…" Harry said desperately. "I know you told me truth about your parents. I saw them with Dumbledore and he confirmed it… Draco I never meant to doubt you, I was just overwhelmed with everything…"

"That doesn't excuse the shit you said, Potter," Draco said, his voice ice cold.

Harry forced himself not to flinch.

"I know it doesn't," Harry said. "I'm so sorry. I judged you unfairly. But I do trust you. I do. I made a huge mistake and if you'd just let me repair things between us…"

"Us?" Draco spat bitterly. "There is no us."

Harry's eyes teared up before he could stop them.

"Don't say that," Harry pleaded. "I love you."

"Don't say _that,_ Potter," Draco hissed. "You obviously throw the phrase around too carelessly."

"I don't!" Harry insisted. "I meant it when I told you I loved you! I was just so blinded by anger and paranoia and…"

"Get the fuck out of my way," Draco said as he moved to leave the room.

"No."

"For Merlin's sake, Potter," Draco said, his voice lowering dangerously. "What do you take me for? Get out of my way or you'll wish you had."

He tried to push past Harry but Harry held on desperately to Draco's arm. He couldn't lose him.

"Please, Draco," Harry whispered. "Please. I'm so sorry."

"Get your filthy hands off me," Draco snapped. With that, he shrugged Harry off violently before stalking out of the room.

Tears cascaded down Harry's cheeks as he watched the boy he loved walk away from him.

* * *

Oliver threw the curtains aside as he rushed to wear Marcus' bed in the Hospital Wing was. He skidded to a halt when he reached it, noticing that it was empty.

"Marcus?" Oliver called looking around. "Where is he, god damn it."

"Looking for someone?" came a voice behind him. Oliver instantly recognized it and spun around.

Marcus Flint stood there, supported by crutches. Coupled with his tousled hair and warm smile, Oliver had never seen him look more beautiful.

"Oh, Merlin," Oliver breathed as he rushed over to embrace the Slytherin. "You're okay. Thank God."

Marcus buried his face in the crook of Oliver's neck, reveling in the Gryffindor's sheer presence.

"I take it you were worried?"

"Worried?" Oliver gasped as he pulled out of the embrace to look at Marcus. "I was fucking mortified! I… I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't eat or read or study or… and then my gear started rusting and… God, Marcus I was terrified… especially knowing that it was all my fault…"

"Stop."

"What?"

Marcus' hand came up to cup Oliver's cheek. "It wasn't your fault. None of it was. It was Voldemort's fault."

"But if you hadn't been so mad at me you would have never switched time slots!"

Marcus chuckled. "But that would mean that you would have been the one attacked."

"Exactly!"

Marcus rolled his eyes in amusement as he carefully made it back to his bed with Oliver's help.

"I would rather have been attacked myself than to have seen you injured," he confessed softly.

Oliver's startled eyes came up to meet his.

"Why do you care about me so much?" Oliver asked. "I was horrible to you!"

Marcus shrugged, then looked up. Hazel met golden-brown. "Because I love you."

Oliver was stunned. How could Marcus love him after everything he'd done? He looked Marcus in the eyes but saw no insincerity there, just care and warmth and… love. And then Oliver finally knew it. The first unidentifiable emotion in Marcus' eyes, the one he'd shown that day he'd helped him off the ground… it had been love.

Oliver rushed forward and his lips met Marcus' in a tender kiss. His hand came up to run through the Slytherin's hair, while Marcus' hands cupped Oliver's neck gently.

Oliver had never felt anything better. Marcus was gentle, but confident, strong, but at the same time gentle. His breaths got heavy as he deepened the kiss. Marcus eagerly kissed him back, their tongues dueling for dominance. When Oliver's hand travelled down to Marcus' chest, the Slytherin pulled back with a grunt.

"What's wrong?" Oliver breathed anxiously.

Marcus grinned. "Nothing. My chest is still sensitive, that's all."

"Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry," Oliver fretted.

"It's all right," Marcus said chuckling.

"By the way," Oliver said, looking down at his hands guiltily. "I'm really sorry for everything I did to you."

"It wasn't more than I did to you," Marcus said regretfully. "There's nothing to forgive."

Oliver smiled as he leaned forward, touching their foreheads together. "I love you too, by the way."

Marcus smiled at Oliver lovingly, which was a rare look on the rough Slytherin. "I know. I heard your little monologue. Very touching, I must say. Incredibly fitting of a Gryffindor."

Oliver was shocked. "You heard everything I said?"

"Yeah," Marcus shrugged. "I wasn't knocked out completely, just in some kind of magical slumber."

Oliver's hand found Marcus' cheek, unable to resist touching the older boy. Marcus rolled his eyes in amusement.

"Will you go out with me, Marcus?" Oliver asked hopefully, biting his lip.

Marcus laughed and Oliver reveled in the sound of it.

"Of course, you twat."

"Me, a twat?" Oliver said in mock hurt.

"Why, of course," Marcus said, pulling Oliver in close. "But you're my twat."

Before their lips could meet, however, Oliver stopped.

"I need to tell Cedric," Oliver said suddenly, remembering the grey-eyed Hufflepuff. "I need to tell him about us."

Marcus smiled. "I don't think there's any need for that."

"Why?"

"Uhh…" Marcus began, looking away, unsure of how to word this. "He came by earlier. When I first woke up."

"What?" Oliver said, shocked. "Why?"

"Well… I wasn't the only one who heard your little monologue."

Oliver's eyes widened. Oh, Merlin. Cedric had heard everything he'd said to Marcus. Cedric must think that he was a lying, cheating, complete asshole, and…

"He wasn't upset," Marcus reassured him quickly. "He… He came by to tell me that he could see how in love we were. And that he accepted that you loved me more than you cared for him. He gave me his blessing with you."

Oliver stared at Marcus, stunned.

"That's unless you… Unless you want to be with Diggory," Marcus said, looking down at his hands. "If you wanted to, I wouldn't stop you."

Oliver quickly rushed to lift Marcus' chin up gently.

"No," he insisted. "Cedric's a great guy but you're the one I love. It's always been you. I know that now."

Marcus smiled sadly. "If you're sure…"

Oliver silenced him with a fierce kiss. "I'm sure."

* * *

Harry was walking up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower when he collided with another student. His books tumbled out of his bag and down the stairs. He groaned in frustration.

"Are we going to make a habit of this, Potter?"

Harry looked up into the eyes of Blaise Zabini.

"Why are you here?" Harry sighed tiredly.

Blaise shrugged as he bent down to help Harry.

"And why are you even helping me?" Harry said, though there was no true malice in his tone.

"A Slytherin would know to accept help when it is offered," Blaise stated, rolling his eyes as he gave Harry back the last of his books.

Harry smiled in thanks despite himself. "Don't you hate me too, though?"

Blaise shrugged again. "I don't really like to label what I feel for people. It makes for petty behavior."

Suddenly a thought lodged in Harry's mind and he seized upon it.

"Zabini… Blaise," Harry said nervously. "You're Draco's best friend."

"Very observant."

Harry rolled his eyes. "What I mean is… I was wondering if maybe… since you don't hate me… or you don't label me as someone you hate…"

"I haven't got all day, you know."

"Will you help me get Draco back?" Harry blurted out desperately.

Blaise chuckled. "God, you two are a both idiots."

"What?"

"You are both immature idiots," Blaise said again.

Harry's eyes widened with indignation. "I am _not – "_

Blaise held a hand up in interruption. "I only meant that the two of you always resort back to fighting as bitter enemies when you have a disagreement of any sort. It's childish."

Harry sighed. Blaise had a point.

"Will you help me or not?" he asked, all the energy seemingly drained out of him.

"Why are you so eager to get him back?"

"Blaise, I _love_ him," Harry said fiercely. "It hurts me to look at myself in the mirror every day knowing what a fool I was to treat him so horribly."

Blaise raised his eyebrows then looked away, as though considering something.

"And how do you propose I help you?"

"I don't know, you're the Slytherin!" Harry pleaded. "If you know of any way I could just… just talk to him, without him running away or anything."

Blaise thought for a moment before Harry saw his expression shift.

"I could sneak you into our dorm room and lock you and Draco there alone," he offered. "And I know some places in Hogsmeade you could go to if you wanted to buy Draco a nice gift. I mean, gifts always cheer him up in one way or another. Providing they're in good taste, of course. However… I think that leaving you two in a room alone could result in you two killing each other."

"No, no," Harry said. "That would be perfect. You could do that?"

Blaise nodded slowly. "Yes."

Harry sensed that Blaise's offer would not be so easily granted, though.

"What do you want in return?" Harry asked, though his eyes were determined.

"Ahh," Blaise chuckled. "You're rather bright for a Gryffindor."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Name it, Zabini."

"Anything?"

"Well, within reason."

Blaise sighed then, his expression turning into a troubled one.

"Your friend, Finnigan," he began.

Harry's eyes lit up in recognition. "You like him, right?"

If Blaise was shocked that Harry knew about his crush, he didn't show it. He simply nodded.

"He's been quite oblivious to my advances, though," Blaise continued. "I pull off every trick in the book during Slytherin Quidditch games, I helped him with his homework and such… I do not know how to be clearer about my intentions."

Harry chuckled. "Shay's not usually so oblivious. I mean… he's had many partners in the past."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes? Like who?"

"Well, Justin Finch-Fletchley… Michael Corner one time… uhh, some 7th year, I think… But none of them were ever serious."

Blaise made a noncommittal sound.

"Have you been nice to him?" Harry asked.

"I'm always nice, Potter," Blaise argued coolly. "Even to those I don't particularly like. You're an example yourself."

That was true, Harry thought. Blaise had never been anything but courteous and well-mannered. It was part of how he was raised.

"I could talk to him for you," Harry offered.

Blaise tipped his head. "That would be good."

"If you help me with Draco, of course," Harry said.

"I can get you into the dorm room unseen and make sure you two are not bothered, but that's all I'm promising," Blaise replied. "From there onwards it is your task to win Draco over."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

"Ask Finnigan what he thinks of me," Blaise said. Harry suddenly noticed how tired the dark-skinned boy looked, as though he'd been working on an essay for hours and hours instead of sleeping.

"You've really been trying hard with him, haven't you?" Harry asked him in curiosity.

Blaise shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"Why Seamus?" Harry asked. "He's my friend and all but I was just wondering why you were suddenly interested in him."

Blaise sighed. "I can't explain it, Potter. Just something about him makes me go… I don't know, crazy, or something."

Blaise turned away but Harry caught the rosy blush appearing on his cheeks.

"Look, I won't talk to Seamus unless you promise you won't hurt him," Harry said, his voice firm to let the Slytherin know he was serious.

"Of course," Blaise said, and Harry could detect no insincerity in his eyes. "I like him. I would never hurt him intentionally."

Harry nodded briskly. "Good."

"So, do we have a deal, then, Potter?" Blaise asked, holding out his hand.

"Yes," Harry replied, shaking Blaise's hand, surprised by the firmness of the Slytherin's grip. "I can't believe I just made a deal with a Slytherin."

"And I cannot believe I just agreed to help the Boy-Who-Lived," Blaise grinned.

"Anyway, I'm glad we made the deal," Blaise continued as he began walking down the staircase.

"Why?"

"I'm tired of coming to the Gryffindor tower!" Blaise complained.

Harry threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

Oliver and Marcus were holding each other tightly on Marcus' hospital bed, locked in a heated kiss. Oliver was careful not to put too much pressure on Marcus' chest, weary of causing the boy any pain.

Marcus growled as he lunged forward to deepen the kiss. Oliver moaned. They broke apart for air and Oliver was left panting for breath as Marcus nibbled on his neck.

"Oh, God…"

Marcus' hand traveled downwards and soon Oliver was gasping and arching up into the Slytherin.

"Marcus, what are you – "

"Shhh," Marcus said, hot into Oliver's ear. "Just enjoy it."

Oliver's eyes fluttered closed as Marcus' hand delved into his boxers.

"Merlin!"

"It's Marcus, actually," the Slytherin smirked as he moved his hand back and forth, eliciting pleasured moans from the Gryffindor keeper.

"Shu-shut u-up – oh!"

A few minutes later, Oliver had his head resting on Marcus' shoulder, looking at his boyfriend with a dreamy smile playing on his lips.

"Liked that?" Marcus teased.

"Loved it," Oliver said.

"Yeah, I could tell," Marcus said, smirking.

"Hey!" Oliver protested, laughing. "You were enjoying it just as much."

"Mmm…" Marcus hummed as he trailed a finger down Oliver's neck. "God, you're so gorgeous."

"So are you."

Marcus scoffed. "No, I'm not."

Oliver raised his eyes to look at Marcus, frowning. "Yes, you are."

Marcus sighed and looked away. "Lots of people would disagree with you on that."

"Marcus," Oliver said, looking him seriously in the eyes. "I _love_ you. I think you're beautiful. I love everything about you. And the other people who would disagree with me? Well I pity them. I pity them because they can't get their heads out of their asses enough to see you how I see you. Then again, that may be a good thing. I want to be the only one who loves you like this."

Marcus smiled, his eyes glazed with happiness. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

"When you say that you want to be…the only one who loves me like… like this… Does that mean you want everyone to know about us?"

Oliver smiled at the way Marcus had stuttered. It was rare for the usually confident Slytherin.

"Yes," Oliver said firmly. "Screw what my house thinks. They'll have to deal with it."

Marcus chuckled and smiled down at his boyfriend. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the Scot's flushed lips.

"Ahem."

Both boys jumped when they saw Madame Pomfrey staring at them from the foot of the bed.

"Oh Merlin," Oliver gasped.

Marcus was no better. He'd opened his mouth but nothing had come out.

"Mr. Wood," Madame Pomfrey snapped. "Would you explain to me why you are in my patient's bed?"

"I… I just came to see him," Oliver stuttered, his eyes wide.

"Detention, Mr. Wood," Madame Pomfrey said briskly. "Two weeks."

Oliver opened his mouth to protest but Madame Pomfrey raised her hand in warning.

Marcus didn't heed it.

"It wasn't his fault!" Marcus said quickly. "I asked him to come on the bed with me. I was having nightmares."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. Slytherins were really smooth with the lies. No wonder so many of them escaped punishment.

Madame Pomfrey looked at Marcus sternly but the Slytherin didn't waver. The mediwitch then sighed in exasperation.

"Very well, Mr. Flint," she said, then turned back to Oliver. "No detention, then, but this will be the last time I catch you in this predicament. Am I clear, Mr. Wood?"

Oliver nodded hastily and got up and off the bed.

"How is your chest, Mr. Flint?" Madame Pomfrey asked as she examined him closely.

"Better," Marcus said, though he winced a little when Madame Pomfrey pressed on his abdomen.

"Yes, that's normal for victims of the Cruciatus curse…" she said, continuing to examine the bandages on his arms.

Oliver's eyes widened impossibly.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice a lot louder than he'd intended. "The _Cruciatus_ curse?!"

Madame Pomfrey nodded gravely. "Yes, Mr. Flint suffered at least three minutes under the curse. The endless cruelty of the Dark Lord is sickening."

Though her tone was sharp, Oliver could sense the anger and outrage that she hid beneath it. He was feeling it now, too.

"Marcus why… Why didn't you tell me?!"

Marcus sighed. "It was nothing. I'm alive, aren't I?"

"But you… you could have _died_!" Oliver cried.

"Oh would you stop that?" Marcus complained. "I'm not weak. I should have protected myself better."

Now Oliver understood. Marcus' pride was on the line when it came to the attack. As a Slytherin he must have felt horrible for not being able to defend himself.

Oliver walked to Marcus' side. "I didn't say you were weak. I'm just… I'm bloody scared, Marcus. What they did to you is… it's unforgivable."

Marcus nodded, his mask crumbling for a moment as he pressed his lips to Oliver's wrist.

"I was scared too," he admitted softly.

Oliver smiled sadly. He wanted to lean down and kiss the boy… to comfort him, but he was suddenly reminded of Madame Pomfrey's presence. Marcus saw Oliver stopping himself and understood.

"I love you," Oliver said instead. He pressed a quick kiss to Marcus' cheek when Madame Pomfrey's back was turned.

"I love you too."

Madame Pomfrey turned around then. "Now, Mr. Wood, I must ask you to leave. Visiting hours are over and I must treat Mr. Flint immediately if he wants to get discharged soon."

Oliver nodded, albeit regretfully.

He turned to Marcus and held his hand. "I'll be back as soon as visiting hours begin again."

Marcus smiled after his boyfriend as he walked out. Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat then and Marcus stiffened, trying not to feel awkward as hell.

"It's about time, Mr. Flint," Madame Pomfrey said as she re-applied the bandages around his shins.

"Time for what?"

"It's about time that you and Mr. Wood… figured things out, shall we say."

"What? How – how did you know?" Marcus couldn't keep the stutter out of his voice this time.

"I do watch the Quidditch matches sometimes, you know," she replied briskly. "And I'm not blind."

Marcus blushed, staring at the mediwitch in shock.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

Oliver sat in between Percy and Jack Sloper as the Gryffindors in the stand waited for Madame Hooch to blow the preliminary whistle. It was Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw. Tension filled the air already as if the weather itself knew how much was at stake for this game.

Ravenclaw had lost the game against Hufflepuff a few weeks before, and had also lost to Gryffindor at the beginning of the season. Similarly, Slytherin had suffered back-to-back defeats against Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, and both teams' totals stood at 0 points. Both houses needed desperately to win this game in order to be contenders for the Quidditch cup this season.

Though Oliver knew he should be impartial, he desperately wanted Slytherin to win so Marcus would be happy. After all, Marcus' happiness was his own.

Madame Hooch blew the whistle and the teams took their places in the sky. Oliver's eyes immediately sought Marcus out, seeing the captain shake hands roughly with Roger Davies. Oliver knew how firm Marcus' handshake was and suddenly longed for his touch. They hadn't told anyone about their relationship yet, for Marcus had had to stay in the Hospital Wing for a couple more days in order to be fit for this game. The last time Oliver had asked Marcus how they wanted to come out and tell people, Marcus had just winked at him and left, piquing a curiosity in Oliver that had yet to be satisfied.

When Madame Hooch had signaled the beginning of the game, the two teams instantly burst into action. It was clear that this was a high-stakes match for both houses.

"Say," Jack Sloper said as he watched the players. "Zabini's got a good dive, hasn't he?"

His tone was tinged with fear, and Oliver knew that his friend was nervous about facing Zabini in the future.

"Yes," Oliver said. "Not as good as yours, though."

Jack grinned. "Shut up."

Oliver laughed. "No! You're my chaser and I say you're better."

Percy chuckled to his left. "Quidditch freaks."

"You love us."

"I don't know why."

A few minutes later, Ravenclaw scored the first goal. Oliver winced when he saw Marcus stiffen and nearly shiver with rage. He knew how much this game meant to the Slytherin.

"Come on…" he whispered. "You can do this."

"What was that?" Percy asked.

"Oh, nothing."

Slytherin was quickly back level thanks to a great play that finished with Urquhart slamming the quaffle into the nearest hoop. And then it seemed that the entire Slytherin team came to life, their chasers whizzing back and forth scoring goal after goal. Roger Davies' voice echoed here and there as he yelled in frustration at his team to get itself together.

"And… Marcus Flint scores yet another goal for Slytherin! And this rate, even if Ravenclaw do catch the quaffle, Slytherin might be too far ahead for them to stand a chance!" cried Lee Johnson from the commentary room in excitement.

Oliver reveled in the sight of Marcus' triumphant smile every time he scored a goal.

* * *

"Hey, Seamus?" Harry asked, leaning in towards his dorm mate. He'd decided that this would be a good time to ask his friend about Blaise, considering that the Slytherin was flying back and forth right before their eyes.

"Yeah, Harry?" Seamus responded, swallowing a handful of popcorn. "You want some?"

"No, no. I just wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?"

Harry didn't know how else to bring the Slytherin up so he decided to be blunt. "What do you think of Zabini?"

"Blaise?"

"Yeah."

Harry saw the tint of pink flush on Seamus' cheek and tried to hide his smile.

"He's… decent for a Slytherin, I guess. Why?"

"Just decent?" Harry asked with a teasing note to his voice.

"I… what are you getting at, Harry?" Seamus asked, his blue eyes alight with amusement and anxiety.

Harry chuckled. "Well, I've heard that he rather fancies you."

"I… He… What?" Seamus spluttered, almost dropping his carton of popcorn.

Harry just laughed.

"Are you attracted to him?" Harry asked.

Seamus blushed even more, still reeling from the shock of Harry's earlier statement. "Does he really like me?"

"Yeah, Shay," Harry assured him. "I promise it's the truth."

Seamus then looked up to the sky as Blaise whizzed past the Gryffindor stands, quaffle in hand and a determination in his eyes.

"I thought he was just being nice to me," he confessed.

"No, he really likes you."

"I… I can't believe I didn't see that," Seamus chuckled, though his eyes looked nervous. "I mean… usually I know it when guys are making a pass at me, you know? I guess I just couldn't believe that Blaise Zabini would even take a second glance at me. I mean… you know, he's _Blaise._ "

Harry chuckled knowingly. "Yeah, he's a bit of a mysterious one."

And then the crowds burst into cheer when Marcus Flint performed a spectacular dive to avoid three bludgers headed his way.

"Yes," Seamus said.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Uh… yes," Seamus repeated.

"Yes, what?" Harry asked again, confused.

"I think Blaise is attractive," Seamus said, smiling meekly.

* * *

It was a couple moments later that the snitch was finally sighted. Lee Johnson shouted out an enthusiastic string of commentary as Roger Davies, who'd seen it first, shot towards it immediately.

Oliver's heart clenched when he saw how far away Terrence Higgs was to the snitch. Davies would surely get there first. But then he looked at the scoreline and saw that Slytherin was ahead by 150 points… They needed 10 more to have enough points to win regardless of who caught the snitch. They needed just one more goal.

Marcus seemed to see this too and quickly shot towards the hoops with the quaffle. The Ravenclaw players desperately defended against his attack, clearly seeing the situation as it was.

Marcus passed the quaffle to Urquhart who, in a sudden moment of hesitation, dropped it. The crowds gasped. Davies was closing in on the snitch.

Blaise immediately dove for the quaffle. All the supporters were silenced by how close and how fast he was heading to the ground.

"He's crazy!" someone yelped.

But the Slytherin knew what he was doing as he came to an immense halt not two feet above the ground to snatch the quaffle out of the air. He wasted no time and quickly zipped towards the hoops, dodging a bludger as he went.

He passed it to Urquhart, who, this time, had settled back into his confident stature. Meanwhile, Davies was rushing towards the snitch, with Higgs still a few feet behind him in pursuit.

When Urquhart was tackled by a Ravenclaw beater, he quickly passed the ball to Marcus. At the same time, Davies reached out his hand to grab at the snitch.

"Marcus, shoot it," Oliver whispered urgently.

Marcus shot the quaffle immediately to the nearest hoop and the crowd gasped when it seemed like the Ravenclaw keeper would save it. But Marcus' shot had been too powerful and the quaffle pushed itself out of the keeper's hands to dash through the hoop… just as Roger Davies' hand closed around the snitch.

The crowd held its breath as both teams looked to Madame Hooch. Oliver bit his lip. No one knew whether the quaffle had gone through the hoop first, or if it had been Davies' hand catching the snitch that had happened first. And then the Ravenclaw stands erupted in support for the latter possibility while the Slytherins indignantly opposed them.

Madame Hooch held a hand up to silence the crowds. She would make the final call.

"Slytherin wins!"

Oliver let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

The Slytherin team immediately rushed to Marcus in the air, surrounding him in their joy and excitement. Oliver smiled when he saw his boyfriend grin triumphantly while he gave his teammates pats on the backs.

And then he met his eyes and smiled at him. Marcus' eyes gleamed with love and victory. Oliver mouthed, _I love you._ Marcus suddenly smirked and mouthed back, _hold on._

Oliver tilted his head in confusion. Hold on for what?

He soon found out as Marcus flew towards the Gryffindor stands. Gasps and unsure whispers arose around him.

Marcus dismounted his broom at the bottom of the bleachers. Most of the Gryffindors eyed him with suspicion but he wasn't looking at anyone but Oliver.

He rushed up the isle, his eyes still reeling with triumph. When he reached a shocked Oliver, he took his hands in his, surprisingly Oliver with the warmth of them.

"I've been thinking of how to tell people about us," Marcus smirked. "And I thought this would be kind of cool."

He leaned forward and captured Oliver's lips in a passionate kiss. Gasps of pure surprise left almost every Gryffindor's lips there. Oliver didn't hear them, though, as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, pulling him closer. Marcus tasted of mint and fresh dew, and his musky, masculine scent overwhelmed Oliver with desire. Much too soon, Marcus broke the kiss with Oliver tilting his lips up for more.

Marcus chuckled. "Eager, are we?"

Oliver nodded sheepishly.

"One second." Marcus said before turning to face his teammates, who were hovering in front of the stands, staring at him wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I'm gay," he shouted, stating the obvious.

Urquhart's eyes nearly shot out of his while Zabini hid a smirk.

"Wood?!" Urquhart yelled. "Of all people?"

Marcus' eyes narrowed. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Of course! Why the hell are you with Wood?"

Marcus shrugged. "He's fucking gorgeous."

With that he turned back around to face Oliver, whose eyes were gleaming brightly. "I love you."

"Love you too," Marcus returned before going back to kissing his boyfriend.

* * *

Harry bit his lip in nervousness as he followed Blaise down the stairs to the dungeons.

"Merlin, can your footsteps be any louder, Potter?" Blaise whispered harshly.

"Sorry," Harry replied sheepishly.

"All the Slytherins should be down by the kitchens right now," Blaise explained. "Crabbe and Goyle are having this ridiculous eating competition and most of us think it's too much good fun to miss."

"What about Draco?" Harry asked anxiously.

"I told Draco I had something urgent to tell him," Blaise said. "So he's waiting for me in the dorm room."

"Thanks," Harry said as he followed Blaise as silently as he good. "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the dungeons."

"There's more than one way into our tower," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "I'm taking you through the back so we'll bypass the common room."

Harry nodded. "By the way," he whispered. "I talked to Seamus."

Blaise halted in mid-step and turned to face Harry, frowning. "And?"

"He's attracted to you," Harry said. "He told me himself."

A smirk formed on Blaise' face. "Good."

"Wait," Harry said when Blaise continued walking. "I meant it when I warned you not to hurt him."

Blaise chuckled softly. "You Gryffindors worry too much. Now come on or we'll be out here forever."

When they reached the alternate door to the Slytherin tower, Blaise quickly looked around to make sure no one saw him.

"Snake skin," he whispered to the portrait. It opened instantly.

Harry followed Blaise into the dark shadows of the tower.

Almost immediately, Harry found himself in a corridor. Doors, which were obviously those to the dorm rooms, lined the corridor on the left and right sides.

Blaise jogged down the corridor and stopped at one of the doors. He silently gestured for Harry to join him.

He knocked the door.

"Draco, unlock the door!"

"It's about time, Blaise!" Harry heard the irritated voice of the boy he'd come to win back.

The door creaked open open. Immediately, Blaise shoved Harry into the room. Upon seeing who it was, Draco flung himself off the bed.

"Blaise what the hell is this? " Draco shouted indignantly.

The door clicked shut behind Harry and he heard Blaise casting a strong locking charm.

He gulped as he stared into Draco's murderous gaze.

* * *

Oliver licked the chocolate off his fingers as he watched Crabbe and Goyle push their faces into blueberry pies. The students around him were either laughing or making noises of disgust. Though mostly Slytherins surrounded him, there were those from other houses who had come down to see the two food-loving fools compete.

Marcus had his arm around Oliver's waist possessively and Oliver found that he didn't mind at all. He had been introduced to a couple of Marcus' friends, and although some of them regarded him with the coldness expected of a Slytherin to a Gryffindor, others were less hostile and even friendly, particularly Terrence Higgs and Daphne Greengrass.

After a moment, Oliver saw that Marcus wasn't looking at the two competing boys but was instead staring at Oliver.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked, taking another bite of his chocolate bar. "You want some?" he asked, offering the bar up to Marcus' lips.

Marcus shook his head. Oliver then saw the spark of desire in his eyes and grinned.

"You want something else?" Oliver teased.

Marcus growled and captured Oliver's lips in a demanding kiss. He licked the chocolate from the Gryffindor's lips and tasted it in his mouth.

"Marcus… baby, not here," Oliver said into the kiss.

"And why not?" Marcus said, eyebrow raised.

"We're in public and I don't fancy giving these people another show," Oliver whispered, looking around. Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying attention to them as Crabbe and Goyle had now moved on to plates of roast chicken.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Spend the night with me, then."

"But your room-mates…"

"There's an unused room in the Slytherin tower," Marcus said, his brows raised suggestively.

Oliver smiled.

"Perfect."

Just then, a flash of yellow caught Oliver's eye as he saw Cedric pass him with a jug full of butterbeer.

"Hold on," Oliver said as he moved away from Marcus' grasp.

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to Cedric."

Marcus narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Oliver sighed. "I just want to thank him for being so nice about all of this. That's all."

Marcus rolled his eyes but nodded reluctantly. "Fine."

Oliver tapped Cedric on the shoulder just as the Hufflepuff was leaving the kitchens.

"Cedric!" he called.

Cedric turned around and his eyes widened when he saw Oliver. "Oh, hey, Oliver."

Oliver sighed, not knowing where to start. "Look… I just wanted to say thank you. And… I'm so sorry. I never meant to… to _cheat_ on you or anything like that with Marcus. Honestly I rejected him because of us at first but then… he got attacked and… I was going to tell you, I swear."

Cedric shook his head quickly. "It's okay, Oliver. You love him. I wouldn't have asked you to deny that."

"I know," Oliver said, still feeling guilty. "But I didn't want to make you feel like you were doing something wrong, because you really weren't…"

Cedric smiled, shrugging. "I know. We're just not meant to be. I see how happy you and Marcus are and I'm happy for you. And besides…" his voice trailed off.

"What?" Oliver asked curiously.

"The reason I never asked you whether or not we should define our relationship is because I wasn't sure of us either," he confessed.

Oliver's eyes widened. That was why Cedric never discussed whether or not they were boyfriends.

"Oh," Oliver said.

"No, it's not that I was uncertain about you," Cedric quickly explained. "You did nothing wrong either. I guess I just wasn't sure if we were best for each-other, that's all."

Oliver smiled then. "You were great, Ced."

"So were you," Cedric said, smiling almost sadly. "But I'm glad Flint's treating you well."

"Yeah, he's amazing," Oliver said almost dreamily.

Cedric chuckled. "Well, if he ever hurts you, he'll have me to answer to, that's for sure."

Oliver smiled. "Thank you, Cedric. You're a great friend."

"So are you."

Oliver moved to hug the blond and the Hufflepuff returned his embrace warmly.

"Enjoy the rest of this competition," Cedric said, glancing at Crabbe and Goyle with a mixture of disgust and amusement. "Tell me if anything disastrous happens, which I think at this rate is inevitable."

Oliver laughed. "Sure thing."

* * *

"Get out," Draco hissed at Harry.

"Draco, just – "

"Out!" Draco yelled.

"No," Harry said firmly.

Draco let out a frustrated groan.

"I am going to nail Blaise to a bloody cross," he muttered to himself.

"Draco I just want to talk to you," Harry pleaded. "Please."

"Haven't I made it clear to you that I don't want to speak to you, or even _look_ at you, Potter?" Draco sneered.

Harry sighed. "I know. But I came here to apologize and I won't leave until I've said what I want to say."

Draco scoffed, turning away from the Gryffindor.

"Draco I… I meant what I said when I told you I loved you. I do love you. I was just overwhelmed by the news about Voldemort. I can never control my emotions when it comes to him. I know I told you things I never, _ever,_ should have, and I know I hurt you, but I never wanted to. You need to know that. I never wanted to hurt you," Harry said, his eyes tearing up at the thought of losing Draco forever.

Draco didn't respond so Harry continued.

"I have this prejudice against Slytherins… I know that. And I'm sorry. I guess I've just grown up with the idea that Slytherins aren't to be trusted. And the first two years here proved that too. I mean, some of you were horrid. But now I know that so many of you have changed. I guess it's just taking me a while to get used to it."

Draco turned around slowly and Harry was relieved to see that although his eyes were still hostile, they were slightly less angry.

"I saw your parents with Dumbledore… he confirmed that they were spies for the Order," Harry continued, his own eyes begging Draco to forgive him.

"It took you Dumbledore's convincing to believe something I already told you?" Draco asked darkly.

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have trusted you. I do trust you. As I said I was just… I was fucking terrified, Draco. I've been having dreams about Voldemort coming back to attack us, I've been having nightmares about the night my parents died and… And I don't even know what to do with my emotions now and I made a huge mistake hurting you and I know you shouldn't forgive me but _please…_ I love you…" Harry's voice trailed off as he couldn't help the frustrated sob that escaped his lips. He turned away, ashamed that he was crying. He didn't want to break down in front of Draco.

His hands came up to wipe away his tears fiercely. _Stop crying,_ he ordered himself.

But before he knew it his hands had been replaced by Draco's own, gently wiping his tears away.

"Shhh, don't cry," Draco said, his voice soft.

Harry lifted his head and almost sobbed again, but this time in relief, because Draco's eyes had softened and he was looking at Harry the same way he had looked at him before their argument.

"Draco, I'm so sorry…"

"I know," Draco said, his eyes boring deeply into Harry's. "I forgive you."

Harry couldn't help himself anymore as he sobbed with relief. Draco caught him gently as he staggered. Harry forced himself to stop crying for a while.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," Harry said, wiping fiercely at his face again. "I didn't want to get so emotional."

Draco looked down at him, and Harry was shocked to see tears glazing over the Slytherin's eyes. Draco had much more control, though, and quickly blinked them away.

"Don't be scared of Voldemort," Draco said. "I'm here for you. And you've got so many other people behind you as well. We will beat him. Together."

Harry nodded, sniffling slightly. "I love you so much, Draco."

"I love you too, you idiot," Draco sighed, rolling his eyes.

Harry bit his lip before lifting his face, silently asking Draco to kiss him. The blond obeyed, leaning down to meet Harry's flushed lips in a tender kiss.

"I got you something," Harry said, suddenly remembering.

"Got me something?"

"Yeah," Harry said, reaching into his pocket. He took out a small green velvet box. "Here."

Draco took the box out of Harry's hand and inspected it closely.

"This is from Wynates' jewelry store," he said.

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"That's my favorite shop," Draco said, looking quizzically at Harry. "How did you know?"

Harry shrugged, chuckling. "I'm psychic."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Blaise told me," Harry explained. "I wanted to get you something you'd like and he suggested some places."

Draco's grey eyes brimmed with gratitude. "But it must have cost you…"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, shrugging. "A pretty cool guy once said something along the lines of, _What's the good of having money if I can't please my own boyfriend?_ "

Draco smirked. "That guy sounds a little more than pretty cool."

Harry laughed. "Maybe a _little_ more."

"That's better."

"So are you going to open it or what?"

Draco did, carefully, and then stared in wonder at the piece of jewelry before him. It was a silver bracelet designed to look like a coiling snake with green detailing. The eyes of the snake were an emerald color, reminding Draco of Harry's own eyes. Draco then noticed that on the snake's body were intricate engravings of lions.

"It represents both of our houses," Harry explained. "A snake and lions."

Draco smiled. "I love it. Thank you so much."

"Look at the writing on the inside," Harry said.

Draco turned the bracelet around and saw, _With all my love – Harry_ engraved on the inside of the bracelet in an elegant cursive hand.

Draco's smile brightened and he leaned forward and kissed Harry hard.

"I love you _so_ much," Harry breathed into the kiss just as they broke for air.

Draco's eyes were twinkling with joyful tears. "I know. I love you too."

* * *

Harry insisted that Draco sit with him at the Gryffindor table for dinner, and though the Slytherin had protested at first, he eventually agreed. The Gryffindors had been slightly suspicious of Draco at first, but when it was clear that everything had been sorted out between him and Harry, they warmed up to him. Fred and George struck up a conversation with the blond about Quidditch, and though Draco regarded them coldly at the beginning, he realized that the twins were being much more amusing than annoying this time. And although Ron had been hostile to Draco when he first moved to sit with them, he had softened a little towards the blond, especially because Astoria, who was sat next to him also at the Gryffindor table, insisted that he be kind to her housemate.

Harry smiled at his boyfriend, truly happy for the first time in weeks. He looked over at the Slytherin table and saw Oliver there next to Marcus, laughing at something Adrian Pucey was saying. Though it seemed weird that some Gryffindors were sitting at the Slytherin table and vice versa, no one minded. Everyone was happy.

Suddenly, the whole hall fell into silence when Dumbledore stood up to address them all.

"Students of Hogwarts," his voice boomed. "I regret to bring you all bad news on this beautiful night, but it must be brought to your attention. Voldemort has invaded Durmstrang."

Gasps echoed around the hall. Students looked at each other in panic. Some Hufflepuffs even fainted. Harry's face was white as paper and he was sure his heart had stopped beating. _Oh, Merlin, no._

"As you may know, for the past few months, Voldemort has been recruiting a new army of Death-Eaters, ever since the events following his return transpired." He cast a subtle glance at the Slytherin table. "It has been brought to our attention that North-Eastern Europe is where the Dark Lord has resided, and he has gathered many supporters with ties to the Durmstrang Academy."

The hall had nearly erupted with panic now, and the professors were all trying to keep their respective houses together.

"Though this is grave news," Dumbledore continued. "We must not fall into panic. The school has been sealed off as of tonight, and all students must remain on campus for your own safety. We hope that the threat will be under control by the time school breaks up for the winter holidays, but as of yet, we cannot predict Voldemort's future actions."

Harry was breathing heavily now. Draco noticed this and quickly laid a hand on his shoulder in support.

"It's okay, Harry," he whispered into the raven-haired boy's ear. "Together, remember?"

Harry's heart stopped its pounding as he looked at Draco, his soft grey eyes instantly calming him down. He nodded, laying his head down on Draco's shoulder. He instantly felt gentle arms wrap around him.

"In light of these recent developments," Dumbledore was saying. "Hogwarts has agreed to house some refugees from the Durmstrang attack – those who are on the Light side of this war. The Ministry has also sent us some wizards who will stay here at Hogwarts to protect all of you as we await further developments."

When he'd spoken the last word, the doors opened and in came a handful of people. Harry instantly recognized the brown fur of the Durmstrang uniform on many of them. They walked confidently, though Harry noticed that some of them sported bruises and scars, doubtless from their encounters with Voldemort when he attacked their school. At the front of this group, Harry saw –

"Viktor Krum!" Ron gasped. "Bloody hell, that's Viktor Krum!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, stop looking so star struck."

But indeed it was Viktor Krum himself, seeker for the Bulgarian Quidditch team. He held himself with poise, emanating the strength he so often showed on the Quidditch field. But Harry noticed that his eyes, though hard, were tinged with fear and shock.

Behind the Durmstrang students were a small group of wizards wearing the badge of the Ministry. Harry didn't recognize any of them but one.

"Charlie!" Ron gasped, as did Fred and George. They knew their brother worked for the Ministry but had no idea he was one of the wizards that had been sent to Hogwarts.

The second oldest Weasley smiled at his brothers as he passed their table.

When the new guests were seated at an extra table provided them at the front of the hall, Dumbledore signaled to the house elves to bring out the food, and dinner recommenced.

Though all the students were still reeling from the news of Voldemort's latest attack on Durmstrang, chatter soon filled the hall as people started to relax, reveling in the presence of each other, the professors and the Ministry wizards.

Harry sighed softly, intertwining his fingers with Draco's on the table.

"I hope this war is over soon," he said, his voice laced with emotion. "And I hope we win."

Draco looked at him in concern. "For as long as I live, I will protect you."

Harry smiled softly and tightened his grip on Draco's hand.

"I have no idea what I've done to deserve you."

"Nor I you."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

Blaise blinked the sleep out of his eyes and instantly squinted at the sunlight from the window. He turned away from it, seeking the warmth of the body curled up next to him. The lithe form cuddled up to him and Blaise smiled.

Seamus had his face burrowed in Blaise's chest, his arms wrapped around the Slytherin's waist. Blaise leaned down to kiss the Irishman's forehead gently.

Seamus' eyes fluttered open.

"Hey," he whispered sleepily.

"Hey," Blaise responded, chuckling lightly.

Seamus stretched a little and yawned, reminding Blaise of a cat.

"Ouch," Seamus winced as he shifted in the bed.

"What's wrong?"

Seamus grinned. "Nothing, I'm just a little sore."

Blaise laughed.

"Sorry."

Seamus leaned up to kiss the dark-eyed Slytherin. "Don't be."

"Blaise! It's nearly 9 o'clock, will you wake up already?" came the unmistakable voice of Draco.

Blaise's eyes widened. Before he could get up, the blinds of the bed were thrown back.

"Oh for the love of _Merlin!_ " Draco screamed, seeing Seamus under his best friend's covers.

From the other end of the room, Theodore Nott burst into laughter when he saw the Gryffindor and Blaise' petrified look. It was rare to see the Slytherin showing any other emotion but collectedness.

"I must say I'm glad you remembered the silencing charm," Nott chuckled as Draco made a disgusted face.

"Well, I was kindly waiting for you two to leave in order to spare you this sight," Blaise sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Besides, Draco, it's not like you haven't bedded a Gryffindor yourself."

Draco's eyes widened. "I'll have you know that I do not intend to _bed_ a Gryffindor in the company of others, unlike you and your cavalier approach to – "

"Okay, Draco, I get it," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. And then his eyes lit up in amusement. "Is that to say you _haven't_ bedded Harry?"

Draco's expression locked into one of a deer caught in headlights, but only for a moment before it was replaced by a menacing frown. But it was too late, for Blaise had caught it.

"Ahhh," Blaise chuckled teasingly. "I see."

Draco growled. "I'm getting out of here. And Finnigan, I want you long gone before I come back."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Draco. Lighten up."

Draco barely resisted hexing Blaise before he stalked out of the room.

Theodore grinned. "Someone clearly needs to get laid."

Seamus got up on the bed and started shrugging his shirt on.

"Well, I'll leave you two to… do whatever you were doing," Theodore said with an awkward smile before following after Draco.

Blaise instantly reached for his wand off the bedside table and locked the door with a charm. He then grabbed Seamus' arm.

"What are you doing?" he whispered with a smile.

"Getting dressed?" Seamus said innocently.

"Well, stop. I'm not done with you," Blaise smirked before pouncing on the Irishman, who offered no resistance.

* * *

Oliver was walking down the corridor to the Quidditch field when he felt two hands jolt his shoulders.

"Hey, gorgeous," Marcus whispered in his ear.

Oliver gasped. "You scared the shit out of me, Flint."

"Flint?"

"Sorry, habit," Oliver said guiltily.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "You done that essay for potions?"

Oliver shook his head. "Nope. Percy's on the verge of killing me."

Marcus looked at his boyfriend in disbelief. "You're unbelievable. Even I'm done."

"Yeah, well I don't like doing homework," Oliver chuckled. "Besides, I bet you just paid some 5th year to do it for you."

Marcus laughed. "Not going to deny that. You going to practice?"

Oliver nodded.

"Great. So am I," Marcus grinned as he took Oliver's hand as they both walked out onto the pitch.

The two captains laid their bags on the bleachers and started putting on their gear. Oliver finished first and mounted his broom, doing a few quick laps to warm up.

"Say, Oliver?" Marcus called from the stands.

"Yeah?"

"Something odd's going on," Marcus said.

Oliver flew towards him and dismounted his broom. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Marcus frowned. "My gear's weird."

Oliver chuckled. "Weird how?"

"Uh… Just weird. I don't know, it looks different."

Oliver could barely stop himself from laughing. "You don't say…"

"Doesn't it look different to you?" Marcus asked, frowning up at the keeper. "Maybe the idiots in the common room messed with it."

Oliver laughed now, unable to help himself.

"What?" Marcus said crossly.

"You are so oblivious," Oliver giggled.

"I can't believe you're giggling," Marcus grumbled. "And I'm oblivious to _what_ exactly?"

"I'm not giggling," Oliver protested, still giggling.

"You're lucky I love you or I'd wipe that smirk off your face."

"You're lucky I love you or I'd be laughing even louder at your obliviousness."

"Obliviousness to _what_?" Marcus said impatiently.

"Your gear," Oliver explained, still chuckling. "It's different because it's charmed."

"Different because it's charmed how – " Marcus stopped as realization dawned on him and he looked back to his shin guards. They didn't have a trace of rust or scratching or worn leather on them. "You…"

Oliver smiled. "Percy helped me figure out what charm you used on my gear, so I put the same one on yours."

Marcus grinned. "You do realize it would be more practical if we both cast the charm on our own gear, right?"

Oliver shrugged. "I think it's more romantic this way."

"Oh, do you, now?" Marcus smirked as he leaned forward and brought Oliver closer.

"Mhmm," Oliver hummed as he saw the gratefulness in his boyfriend's expression. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and the light made Marcus' hazel eyes glow, reminding him of honey.

Marcus was thinking the same of Oliver's eyes, though they instead made him think of chocolate and fun and mischievousness.

"Well thank you, Mr. Romantic," Marcus whispered as their lips met.

"You're welcome, Mr. Oblivious."

Marcus growled into the kiss, making Oliver's body shiver with a chuckle.

* * *

Harry gasped as Draco nibbled on his neck, an area that he'd recently found was particularly sensitive. He trailed his own hands down Draco's shoulders, his movements eager but at the same time uncertain.

When Draco's hand moved to flick over one of Harry's nipples, the raven-haired boy moaned, feeling it harden instantly. Draco chuckled as his mouth ventured further down.

But when Draco's hand moved to touch the zipper of Harry's pants, the Gryffindor quickly pushed him away gently.

"Wait," he gasped.

Draco looked up at Harry, his usually perfect hair tousled and his lips red and raw. "What's wrong?"

Harry blushed. "I… I just… I've never…"

Draco nodded in understanding immediately and came back up so he was face to face with him.

"It's okay," Draco said simply. "I won't push you."

Harry nodded gratefully. "It's not that I don't want it…"

"Then what is it?"

Harry was blushing wildly now. "I've never been with… with anyone. I wouldn't know what… what to do… How to touch you…"

Draco understood Harry's fears. He lifted a hand to brush away a strand of hair from Harry's green eyes.

"I don't care," he said softly. "I love you, Harry. And I love just being with you."

"But what if I don't compare to all your past… you know…" Harry was hinting at Draco's past love life.

Draco sighed. "I've been with people, yes, but none of them meant anything. I never loved any of them. But I love _you._ They will never compare to _you._ "

Harry smiled but Draco still saw the lingering doubt in his eyes. He leaned forward and captured Harry's mouth again in a tender kiss. "I love you," he whispered.

Harry's eyes brightened when he saw the sincerity in Draco's gaze.

"Draco?"

"Yes, love?"

"Touch me," Harry said.

"What?"

Harry blushed but his eyes shone in determination. "Touch me."

"Wh – Are you sure?"

"Yes." Harry's voice was firm and loving, and Draco knew that he was certain.

He rained kisses on Harry's jaw, his hands moving to remove Harry's shirt completely.

"Where do you want me to touch you?"

"Draco…" Harry said, squirming in shyness.

Draco smirked, trailing a finger down to swirl around Harry's navel.

"Here?" he said teasingly.

"Oh… Draco, please," Harry gasped.

Draco's hand ventured lower.

"Are you sure?" he asked one more time.

"Oh, Merlin… Draco, yes!" Harry moaned, an impatient note to his voice.

Draco smirked as he moved to remove Harry's belt.

"Okay, love."

* * *

When Harry returned to the common room that evening, he heard bickering coming from one corner of the room. He looked over to see what was going on and recognized Ron and Astoria engaged in a heated argument.

"Ron, they're my _friends_!" Astoria was yelling. "You can't just treat them like that!"

Ron's face was flushed with anger. "I can't help it! They used to spit insults at me last year non- _stop!_ What do you expect me to do? Kiss their arses now?"

Astoria sighed in exasperation. "No, I'm just asking you to be _civil_ with them. Merlin, Ron, you insulted Tracey's mother! That was completely uncalled for!"

Ron ran a tired hand across his face. "Well, she's done a lot worse to me."

"How can this work if you're not even going to _try_ to be nice to my friends?!"

"I don't _want_ to be nice to your friends!" Ron protested.

"Look," Astoria said, looking away in irritation. "When you've got your brain back, you can come talk to me. Until then, I'll leave you alone because you clearly have some thinking to do."

Astoria stalked off, right in Harry's direction. Harry prayed that she would walk past without seeing him but Astoria was as perceptive as any Slytherin and saw him right away. Harry expected her to be angry but she simply gave him a tight-lipped smile and continued walking.

"Ron?" Harry called after Astoria had left.

Ron sighed. "You heard everything?"

"Pretty much."

Ron collapsed on the couch, sighing in frustration. "I don't know what to do."

Harry sat beside him, smiling sympathetically. "You think you two can work things out?"

"I don't know… I mean, I can't even get along with her friends. Hell, I don't _want_ to."

"Why not?"

"I just… We don't click."

Harry sighed. "Ron, I don't think Astoria wants you to be particularly friendly with them. Just… civil, I guess."

Ron let out a frustrated groan. "I know. I can't even be that, though. I can't help it. When I look at her friends all I think about is how they've hurt me over the past few years. And I know the Slytherins have changed and all but I just…"

"Can't get over it?" Harry interjected. Ron nodded. "I feel you, man."

"How do you do it with Malfoy, mate?" Ron asked, raising his tired eyes.

Harry shrugged. "His friends are all right to me."

"What, like Crabbe and Goyle? I find that quite hard to believe." Ron scoffed.

"No," Harry said. "Draco's not as close to them as you may think. Daphne's nice, and Blaise is decent most of the time. Even Flint and his posse are all right nowadays ever since he started dating Oliver. And Draco means the world to me, so if me getting along with his friends makes him happy, that's worth it."

Ron looked at Harry as if considering his words. "You're right. Merlin, you're right and I'm an idiot."

Harry put a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder. "No, you're not. You're entitled to feeling this way. I mean, the Slytherins were jerks to you."

Ron smiled, appreciating Harry's support. "I know. But I do like Astoria, and… and I need to try to at least get along with her friends. She deserves it. I just don't know if I can do it, you know?"

Harry nodded in understanding. "It's hard."

Ron sighed. "I'm not sure I can handle being with a Slytherin. Not because of anything she's done, but just because… well, you know…"

He didn't need to say anything more. Harry understood.

"Do you love Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Harry responded immediately, his eyes certain and unwavering. Ron knew in an instant that he was telling the truth.

"Do you love Astoria?" Harry asked, sensing that this was the ultimate question.

Ron looked away. "I don't know."

* * *

Oliver steeled himself as he stood in the tunnel at the front of his team. This was it. If they won this game, then Gryffindor would not only be undefeated in the preliminary rounds, but would secure a place in the finals for the Quidditch Cup. On top of that, if they won this game, then Hufflepuff and Slytherin would be tied in points and would go head to head to decide who would play against Gryffindor in the final, and who would play the consolation final against Ravenclaw. If they lost, Slytherin would inevitably relinquish their place in the final to Hufflepuff.

Despite the knowledge that Marcus' own happiness rested on the result of this game, Oliver forced the thought aside. He had to focus on his team and his team alone. He knew that beside him, Harry was having similar thoughts, though Quidditch meant a lot more to Marcus than it did to Draco.

"You all right?" Oliver asked, still looking ahead.

"Perfect. You?" Harry replied, his tone equally as steady.

"Golden."

When the game began, Oliver was pleased to see his team sparking right into action. Within minutes, Alicia Spinnet had scored a goal and forced Hufflepuff to give up a penalty. Jack took it and scored. Oliver kept his breaths steady.

When the first attack came his way, he managed to snatch the quaffle out of the sky before it tumbled through the hoop. The Gryffindor supporters in the stand cheered, but Oliver didn't hear them. He turned around and passed to Katie, who instantly paired up with Jack to score another goal.

About 15 minutes later, the score was 60-20 to Gryffindor. It was still anyone's game. Harry was scouring the pitch for the snitch, squinting his eyes in determination.

Just as Oliver was about to throw the quaffle to Jack, a bludger was shot his way and he never saw it until it collided heavily with his stomach. It lurched him backwards on his broom and he could feel his backside slip off the end of it. His mind snapped into reflex mode and he desperately tried to stay on his broom. But without the use of his right hand, which still gripped the quaffle, he found himself slipping. He saw Alicia rushing towards him and passed the quaffle to her successfully.

With both hands free, Oliver scrambled back on his broom much to the relief of the Gryffindor supporters. In the Slytherin stands, Marcus' eyes never left his boyfriend's form.

Half an hour later, Harry finally saw the snitch and dashed towards it. Cedric saw it a millisecond later and was immediately on Harry's heels in pursuit. The score was still tight and it looked like the seekers were going to decide the game.

Nevertheless, Oliver shouted at his team to keep its focus. Alas, they didn't heed his warning immediately as Alicia clumsily challenged a Hufflepuff beater, warranting a penalty for the opposing team.

Oliver couldn't keep Susan Bones' shot in as it dashed through the hoop to secure another 10 points for Hufflepuff. Oliver gritted his teeth as a waft of self-loathing overcame him for a moment, as it did every time he failed his team in any way.

"It's okay, Ollie," he heard Fred shout at him.

Oliver just held a hand up in acknowledgement.

* * *

Harry raced towards the snitch. It was so close now… he could almost hear the buzz of its wings. He knew Cedric was close behind him. He could hear the Hufflepuff's quick breaths.

The snitch took a detour around the Slytherin stands and Harry followed in pursuit. Immediately, and as expected, the Slytherins booed the Gryffindor seeker, but Harry paid them no mind for he had caught a glimpse of Draco's grey eyes gleaming with encouragement.

Instead of distracting him, the sight of Draco in the stands fired Harry up and immediately, his flight gained speed. But when he was just about to reach out to grab the snitch, it lurched downwards. Harry didn't blink as he spiraled into a steep dive. As he whizzed past the commentary tower, he could vaguely hear what Lee was saying.

"Harry Potter dives for the snitch… So does Diggory… It's an exciting thing to watch, for sure! And on the other end of the pitch Alicia Spinnet has just been hit by a bludger, but she seems all right by the looks of it…"

Harry turned in a full circle on his broom, avoiding a bludger. But as a result, he slowed down, allowing Cedric to catch up to him as Harry could see the Hufflepuff emerging at the edge of his line of sight.

"Oh… Cedric's gaining on Harry… This is going to be a close one!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Oliver was squinting at the other end of the pitch to make sure Alicia was all right. She seemed a little dazed but nevertheless carried on determinedly. Fred shot a bludger Cedric's way, but it was deflected perfectly by a Hufflepuff beater.

Another attack came and Oliver readied himself by the hoops, eyes glued on the quaffle. And then he heard a cry from somewhere in the distance, and moments later he saw a bludger headed towards him. He tried to dodge it but knew there was no time. His hands rushed up to his face and…

"And the bludger hits him! Merlin, and Oliver Wood's head collides with the inside of the hoop… Susan Bones scores the goal but dear God, can Oliver stay on his broom?" Lee Johnson was saying, all in one impassioned breath.

* * *

Harry didn't see the bludger hit Oliver as he was zeroing in on the snitch now. George had sent a bludger Cedric's way, and though Harry hadn't seen what happened, he supposed that the bludger had slowed the Hufflepuff down quite a bit as he didn't sense the fellow seeker behind him any longer.

Lee Johnson was still rambling. "Harry is surely going to catch it now! But meanwhile Oliver Wood has fallen on the sand. He's not moving. Surely Madame Hooch won't call any kind of time out when the snitch is so close to being caught!"

Harry nearly growled in determination as he urged his Firebolt forward. With one last push, he lunged at the snitch and soon felt the cold sphere fluttering in his hand.

"Gryffindor wins!"

The sound was like music to his ears.

He looked around instinctively for Oliver but didn't see him near the hoops. Where was – oh. Harry saw him sprawled on the ground a few feet away. He dashed towards him on foot as did the rest of the team. Harry noticed Cedric was rushing there too.

Jack got there first. "Oliver?" he said, leaning down to cup the boy's cheek. "Oliver, can you hear me?"

Commotion started up in the Gryffindor stands. Harry had reached his captain by then and saw Oliver's face move to one side as he grimaced in pain.

"Can we get a mediwitch here?" Cedric was calling.

Madame Pomfrey was on the field within seconds. Behind her was Marcus Flint, who quickly leaned down over his boyfriend.

"Baby?" he whispered worriedly. Oliver opened his eyes blearily, clearly dazed. "Hey, you're all right. Madame Pomfrey's going to fix you up right away, okay?"

"Out of my way, Mr. Flint," Madame Pomfrey said briskly as she came to attend to Oliver.

A few minutes later, she left Oliver's side and the bystanders let out a collective sigh of relief when they saw the mischievous eyes of their captain, clear and bright and insanely happy, albeit the white bandage around his forehead.

They immediately rushed over to him. Harry, Jack, Katie and Alicia embraced him as the Scot laughed in relief at the victory while Fred and George were getting the Gryffindors in the stands on their feet and celebrating.

"Hey, Harry!" Jack called, looking behind the raven-haired boy and pointing. "Blondie's here."

Harry spun around and saw Draco standing there amidst the celebrating Gyffindors, smiling proudly.

Harry ran over to him and wrapped his arms around him in a fierce embrace. He kissed Draco hard on the lips and the Slytherin dutifully returned the kiss with equal fervor.

"Congratulations," Draco said with a bright and genuine smile.

Harry laughed. "Don't your friends hate you for coming down here to congratulate a rival player?"

Draco shrugged, holding Harry in his arms. "Well, I can tell them I'm only following the Slytherin captain's example."

Harry giggled when he turned to see Marcus and Oliver embracing in the middle of the pitch. Harry vaguely heard Marcus say _Don't you ever scare me like that again._ It was so strange seeing the normally rough and violent Slytherin soften completely around his captain.

"I like the jumper under your gear," Draco said when Harry had turned back towards him.

Harry looked down at the grey jumper he wore underneath his Quidditch robe, peaking out just a bit from under his house colors. He found himself blushing.

Draco looked at him quizzically, amused.

"Something you're not telling me?" Draco asked, though it was more a statement than a question.

Harry smiled meekly. "It's embarrassing."

"Tell me," Draco said, his lips curling into a delighted smile.

"I wore this jumper today because…" Harry blushed even more. "It reminds me of the color of your eyes."

Harry bit his lip in embarrassment. Merlin, he sounded like such a wuss! Draco laughed out loud.

"You're so pathetic," Draco chuckled.

Harry rolled his eyes.

Draco moved forward and pressed their foreheads together. "You're so pathetic that it's bloody adorable."

Harry's eyes widened. He'd never, _ever,_ heard Draco use that word before.

"So are you…"

"Why?"

"For using the word adorable!" Harry giggled almost uncontrollably even as Draco glared at him.

"If I didn't love you so much I'd smack you right now," Draco sighed, though his eyes were soft. "But yes, you're adorable. Get over it."

Harry wasn't done laughing. "Draco Malfoy thinks I'm adorable."

"Harry, if you tell anyone that I – "

"You think I'm _adorable_."

"Now I think you're insane."

"I'm delirious with victory!"

"You're delirious because you have a mental condition."

"But you love me!"

"Merlin's beard, why did I choose a bloody Gryffindor to fall for?"

* * *

The kitchens were alive with happy students as they all mingled around, drinking and eating and just hanging out. Though Gryffindor students dominated, many Hufflepuffs were there too, as they didn't take the defeat too badly and acknowledged that the better team had beaten them. Slytherins and Ravenclaws were also present, as many didn't want to miss a good opportunity to have some fun.

Oliver was seated at a table with Marcus, Terrence, Katie, Jack, Harry, Draco, Ron, Blaise and Cedric. They were all getting along well and it seemed that for the time being the house barriers didn't affect them at all.

Oliver could already feel the butterbeer getting to his head as he was giggling at a joke Jack had just told, his head falling to loll on Marcus' shoulder. Jack himself was already too drunk for his own good, as was Ron. Harry and Cedric were clearly tipsy, but they were both trying to hold themselves together. It was a funny sight. The Slytherins had partaken in the alcohol but seemed as sober as they had been when they'd started.

"You're kind of hot," Oliver said to Marcus in between little hiccups. He then burst into a drunken fit of laughter.

Marcus rolled his eyes and prevented Oliver's head from colliding onto the table. "You're drunk."

"We're all drunk!" Jack shouted, holding up his glass. "That being said, I've never felt better."

And then Oliver saw Seamus Finnigan stumbling over to their table, clearly drunk as well.

"You guys seen Blaise?" he inquired.

Blaise rolled his eyes as he was right in front of the boy, who couldn't see clearly in his drunken state. He rose and supported Seamus' weight as he whispered something in his ear before leading him out of the kitchens.

"Have fun!" Terrence teased after them.

"Remember the bloody silencing charm!" Draco warned them. Beside him Harry giggled and Draco rolled his eyes before deciding to silence his boyfriend with a kiss.

Moments later, a couple of wizards from the Ministry came into the kitchens. A couple of students gasped, scared of being caught with the large amounts of alcohol they were all consuming, but fortunately, the wizards simply smiled at the students in amusement as they meandered through the kitchen to get food.

Charlie Weasley spotted Ron in the crowd and went over to the table. Oliver immediately smiled at his former captain, who greeted him with a heartfelt embrace.

"Congratulations," he said. "Amazing game."

"Learned the best from you," Oliver insisted.

Just as Charlie was about to leave for the table with the butterbeer, his eyes fell on Cedric, who looked up at him in shock.

Charlie smiled slowly. "You're cute."

Cedric blushed impossibly, for once lost for words as Charlie just chuckled and walked away.

Ron looked on in disbelief while the rest of the table, excluding Cedric who just kept blushing, erupted in laughter.

"He _so_ likes you," Katie teased.

Cedric smiled in embarrassment, but his eyes followed Charlie's form as the redhead grabbed a glass of butterbeer and left.

* * *

About an hour later, most of the students had sobered up and were now just talking and relaxing, rejoicing in the time they had to spend together.

Oliver was munching on a slice of treacle tart when Daphne Greengrass appeared next to him.

"Hey, Oliver," she said, smiling. "Congratulations on the win."

"Thanks!" Oliver said happily.

"Do you know where Marcus is, by the way?" Daphne asked.

Oliver looked around. "He said he was going to the toilet… That was a while ago, though."

Daphne nodded as she too scanned the crowd around them. "Oh, there he is."

Oliver followed her finger and saw Marcus sitting beside Viktor Krum at a table dominated by Durmstrang students. Viktor had an arm around Marcus' shoulder and the Slytherin was laughing at something the Bulgarian had just said.

Oliver couldn't help the jealousy that rose in him almost immediately.

"Of course, he's talking to Viktor Krum," Daphne shook her head in amusement.

"Why of course?" Oliver asked, confused.

"Oh…" Daphne said, looking up at Oliver in mild alarm before lowering her gaze. "Oh, it's nothing."

"No, tell me," Oliver insisted, frowning.

Daphne bit her lip before sighing softly. "Marcus just used to have this huge crush on Krum last year. But not anymore, of course. He's with you now."

Oliver looked at her for a moment moments, his mouth open as though he had something to say. But he didn't.

"Don't worry about it, Oliver!" Daphne was insisting. "It was silly of me to bring it up. It's absolutely nothing to be worried about."

Oliver just nodded.

* * *

Later into the night, Oliver finally rose from his seat and said goodnight to Jack, Harry, Draco and Ron. He decided to walk over to the Durmstrang table to talk to Marcus. The Slytherin had promised Oliver that they would spend the night together in the spare room in the Slytherin tower.

"Marcus?" he called when the boy was in hearing distance.

Marcus didn't hear him. He was engaged in a discussion with Krum, their heads bent together closely. Oliver could hear enough of it to deduce that it was about Quidditch.

"Marcus!" Oliver repeated, his voice louder now.

The Slytherin finally turned, spotting his lover. "Oh, hey."

"I… I'm going to bed," Oliver said, unsure of how to remind Marcus in front of the Durmstrang students of their earlier plans.

"All right," Marcus said simply with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Oliver smiled back, though it was tight-lipped. "Okay, love you."

But the Slytherin didn't hear him or return the sentiments as he had resumed his conversation with Krum. He also missed the hurt that washed over Oliver's face as he left the kitchens and got into his bed in the Gryffindor tower, alone.

* * *

Harry wiped his eyes on his sleeve again as he tried his best to force the dizziness from his head. Hangovers were the worst.

"How are you so normal?" Harry asked Draco, who was seated next to him, eating his breakfast calmly.

"Is this question stemming from your realization that you yourself aren't?" Draco smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, I mean, why aren't you hung-over? You drank as much as I did last night."

Draco shrugged. "Slytherins know how to hold their alcohol."

Harry groaned, his head falling onto his hands.

"Hate you," Harry mumbled.

Draco chuckled.

Beside Harry, Oliver suddenly spilled his mug of pumpkin juice. Hermione casted a spell that cleaned the mess and the Scot smiled gratefully at her through tired eyes.

"Marcus not joining us today?" Harry asked. It had been a while since he'd seen Oliver eat a meal without the Slytherin captain.

Oliver sighed heavily then glanced up towards the Slytherin table. "I guess not."

Harry followed his gaze and saw that a group of Durmstrang students were seated at the Slytherin table, among which was Viktor Krum, who was sitting next to the Slytherin captain.

Harry bit the inside of his lip, understanding the situation roughly.

Before he could ask Oliver about it, though, Dumbledore had risen from his chair and was now preparing to address the whole school.

"Students of Hogwarts and Durmstrang, and most welcome wizards of the Ministry, I would just like to update you all on the dire situation regarding the Dark Lord," Dumbledore began, his voice booming. "It has been confirmed that he has overtaken the Durmstrang Academy and has instated himself as headmaster. A select group of students is still active within the school, though many have sought refuge here, Beauxbatons, as well as in many Ministry posts across North-Eastern Europe."

Gasps arose around the Great Hall. The Durmstrang students looked particularly distressed, whispering to each other in panic and alarm.

"Also," Dumbledore continued. "I have it on good authority that Voldemort has put together a formidable army, as followers from Durmstrang have swelled his ranks."

Now the heads of houses were trying to silence their students as many of them were shouting out questions and quieries in panic. Draco was gripping Harry's hand tightly as Harry reveled in the warmth his boyfriend provided.

"However, we have no reason to panic at this moment," Dumbledore said, his voice never wavering in certainty. "No Death-Eaters have been sighted in Hogwarts' vicinity since the attack on the Quidditch pitch, and we have reason to believe that Voldemort is not targeting our school as his main priority at this very moment."

The students seemed to calm down at this, though panic-filled stares still filled the room.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now, on to some lighter news. As you all know, it is Hogwarts tradition to host a winter ball every year. That time of the year is nearing now, and the official date of the ball will be posted in the common rooms in the coming days. With the students of Durmstrang here to share this great tradition with us, we want to make this ball particularly special."

After the news about Voldemort, it seemed that the student body was relieved to hear about something so familiar to them – something they could look forward to.

Harry turned to Draco and kissed him quickly on the lips.

"What was that for?" Draco smirked.

Harry smiled, loving the sight of Draco's soft grey eyes. "Just felt like it."

Draco leaned forward and nuzzled into Harry's neck, breathing in his addictive scent. Harry smiled contentedly.

Meanwhile, Oliver was still looking at the Slytherin table where Marcus sat next to Viktor Krum. His boyfriend hadn't even glanced his way once, not even when Dumbledore mentioned the winter ball. Oliver's brow furrowed with hurt.

 _Didn't you know he'd lose interest in you, you fool?_ a voice sneered in his mind.

He looked away quickly, willing himself not to cry.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

 _Dear Harry,_

 _First of all, I'm glad Dumbledore seems to have everything under control. I got a letter from the Ministry a couple of days ago informing me about the horrible incident on the Quidditch field. You don't know how relieved I was when I knew you weren't hurt._

 _But, anyway, to answer your question about Moony, he and Tonks are doing great. They're always annoyed at me when I come over, though… It seems married life has made them more cranky. Or maybe it's just me…_

 _And now to address more important things. Harry, don't ever, ever think that anything you tell me would change my opinion of you. Nor Remus'. We love you, kid. And even though Remus has got his own kid now, we still love you as if you were our own. Hell, you're pretty much my son! So I'm glad you've told me about your sexuality. I'm not at all bothered by it. You have my support whenever wherever, little Prongsie._

 _And about Draco, well, it's definitely unexpected (you two used to hate each other's guts, you know), but I do know from a couple meetings with the Order that he's decent and definitely on the right side of this war. But that won't stop me from being the overprotective father when I meet him!_

 _I'll leave you with that warning (yes, tell Draco to be afraid, very afraid). I'll see you in two days!_

 _All my love,_

 _Padfoot_

Harry smiled as he read the letter over and over again. Not only did Sirius accept him for who he was, but he again reassured Harry of his and Remus' unconditional love for him. They were his family, after all, and no one was more important. Since he'd been let out of Azkaban last year following Voldemort's return and Wormtail's denunciation, Harry had only been able to see Sirius briefly during breaks from school. He couldn't wait to see him again. It had been much too long.

* * *

Harry walked nervously over to the Slytherin table for breakfast. He and Draco had agreed to eat there together, but he'd woken up late and the Slytherin was already seated when he walked into the Great Hall.

Across the isle, Harry saw some Ravenclaws, including Michael Corner, giving him snide looks. He turned away from them and took a deep breath before heading over to Draco. Though none of the Slytherins had been openly hostile to him, he still felt a little weird walking into a sea of green for breakfast.

But when Draco spotted him, the blonde's eyes instantly lit up as he beckoned him over.

"Hey, baby," Draco said with a quick kiss hello when Harry had settled down next to him.

"Hi," Harry smiled back.

"Harry!" Daphne said in delight as she walked to their table, taking the seat next to Blaise. "How are you?"

Harry smiled at the bubbly blonde. "All right. You?"

"Horrid," she said, sighing as she threaded her fingers through her hair. "Professor Cranmer's just given us this weeklong assignment for the Defense Against the Dark Arts and it's stressing all of us upperclassmen out."

"Oh," Harry blinked. "I would offer you my help but I don't suppose I'd know anything on 6th and 7th-year level."

"Harry's good at DADA," Draco insisted. "I'm sure he can help you if you need it, Greengrass."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Draco silenced him.

"You're great at it," Draco said simply.

"Not _that_ great," Harry blushed.

"Well, I say you are and I'm never wrong," Draco responded.

Harry rolled his eyes as Daphne giggled in amusement.

"I'll help where I can," Harry offered with a smile.

"Oh, thank you, Harry," Daphne said.

Harry looked up when Pansy arrived. He held a breath, hoping that the raven-haired girl wouldn't aim another smack at him simply for being there.

Instead she smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "You look positively scared, Harry."

"Maybe that's because you slapped him the last time you two engaged in a conversation?" Blaise said sarcastically. Beside him, Theodore burst into laughter.

"Oh don't you start," Pansy huffed. "He deserved it at the time."

Harry felt Draco's hand tighten on his waist.

"No, he didn't," Draco said firmly, eyes beginning to narrow. "And if you lay a land on him again, I'll – "

"Oh, lay off it, Draco," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "I was angry at the time. But he's apologized, so I no longer hold anything against him."

Draco looked at Harry with concerned eyes, but Harry quickly assured him with his gaze that it was all right. Besides, he _had_ deserved it.

"It's all right," he told Pansy. "Are we… okay, now?"

Pansy nodded instantly. "'Course." She moved to sit down and noticed Draco's bracelet. "Oh! Nice bracelet Draco, where'd you get that?"

Draco smiled at Harry. "Harry got it for me."

"Awww," Pansy cooed. "You guys are sweet."

Harry laughed. "You say that every time."

"Only 'cause it's the truth!"

"For the last time, Pansy, I am not _cute_ or _sweet_ or anything of the sort," Draco grumbled.

"Embrace your inner cutie, Draco darling," Pansy laughed.

Draco looked at her murderously.

A few minutes later, Harry saw Marcus Flint enter the hall with Adrian Pucey and Terrence Higgs. Though he half expected Marcus to go to sit at the Gryffindor table where Oliver was, he came to sit with his housemates.

Harry noticed Marcus and Terrence ever so subtly nudging Adrian to take the free place next to Daphne. The dark-haired boy nearly stumbled in panic, but Harry caught the slight blush on his cheeks.

Harry smiled to himself. Adrian seemed like a good bloke, if a bit rough around the edges. Daphne deserved nothing less.

"Why are you smiling?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Harry said, covering his mouth with a hand.

Draco smirked and went back to his meal.

"Draco?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Yes?"

"Um…"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Yes…?"

"Well… Um… We're going to the ball together, right?"

Draco barely contained his scoff. "You're incredibly thick, Harry."

Harry looked down at his hands, worried that Draco's words meant a rejection.

He then heard his boyfriend sigh and felt a gently finger under his chin, tilting his head up to meet mischievous grey eyes.

"Of course we're going together," he said.

Harry blushed. "Right… I was just checking."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Merlin knows why I love you."

Harry smiled then, suddenly happy. He leaned in to kiss Draco on the cheek, but in a burst of desire cupped the back of his neck and captured his lips in a hungry kiss.

Draco didn't protest as he wound his arms around Harry's shoulders. They broke a part too soon for Harry's liking, but they had to remember that they were at the Slytherin table. Fortunately, everyone seemed to be either too preoccupied with their food or choosing to ignore the snogging couple.

"Wow," Draco smirked, his grey pupils dilated. "That was unexpected."

Harry's breaths were still heavy.

"Sorry, I can't help it," he said guiltily.

"Didn't say I minded," Draco laughed.

"Oh by the way," Harry said, remembering. "Sirius is coming in a few days for a visit."

"Your godfather?"

"Yeah. I told him about us and he's completely fine with it. So… yeah…" Harry trailed off nervously.

"I'll be happy to meet him," Draco said, smiling sincerely. "He's your godfather and his approval means a lot to me."

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders in a thankful embrace.

* * *

Oliver waited outside the Potions classroom as the Slytherins filtered out. He was desperate to talk to his boyfriend, who hadn't even looked his way since the celebration in the kitchens. Marcus hadn't picked him up at his common room like he usually did, or sit with him at the Gryffindor table, or even greet him.

 _Did I do something wrong?_ Oliver wondered, but he couldn't think for the life of him of something he could have done to piss the Slytherin off. But then he remembered Viktor Krum and Marcus' past crush on him. He sighed. He had to talk to Marcus.

He spotted the dark-haired boy walking out of the classroom next to Adrian, but before he could walk towards him, Marcus had slipped around a corner. He quickly followed.

When he turned the corner, he stopped in his tracks.

Marcus was standing there talking to none other than Viktor Krum. Oliver couldn't make out any words, but Marcus was nodding fiercely and Viktor was smiling in delight. And then Viktor moved forward to embrace the Slytherin, grinning fiercely. Marcus returned the embrace with just as much enthusiasm.

Oliver turned away. His heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest. He quickly ran as fast as he could towards the Gryffindor tower. He couldn't talk to Marcus now.

* * *

Harry had just shut the door to his dorm room when he heard Ron and Hermione arguing downstairs. He rushed down to see what was wrong.

"Merlin, you're insufferable, Ron!" Hermione was yelling, her face twisted with hurt and a million other emotions.

" _I'm_ insufferable?" Ron said in mock disbelief. "You're the one who's always got to have her say in everything I do!"

Hermione gasped. "I do that because I'm your _friend,_ Ronald. I actually try to prevent you from doing idiotic things which you tend to drift towards!"

"I don't _want_ you in my business anymore, 'Mione," Ron groaned. "I don't need you disapproving of every little thing I do and criticizing every decision I make! It's bloody annoying!"

"Well I'm sorry if I think your relationship with Astoria isn't a healthy one!" Hermione said, accosted. "I'm just trying to save you from a potentially horrible end to it!"

"I don't want your opinion on Astoria!" Ron nearly screamed. "I don't care what you think! Why do you care so much, anyway?!"

"I _don't_ care so much, Ron," Hermione explained in irritation. "I was merely giving you a point of view on your clearly crumbling relationship. It isn't my fault you get so touchy about it."

"I'm not touchy!" Ron yelled. "And there you go again judging me and my relationships!"

"I'm not judging anything!" Hermione protested, near tears now.

Harry rushed towards them, knowing he had to interrupt before his two best friends killed each other.

"Guys, calm down," he insisted.

"She started it!" Ron said, pointing an accusatory finger at Hermione.

"Oh, don't be such a child, Ron," Hermione said.

Ron threw his hands up in exasperation. "And you wonder why you're so irritating. I'm out of here. Later, Harry."

And without another glance at Hermione, Ron stalked off in the direction of his dorm room.

When Ron had slammed the door shut, Hermione finally let herself crumple, sobs wracking her body softly.

Harry was instantly at her side. He embraced her gently, kissing her hair and rubbing her back.

"It's okay, 'Mione," he soothed, hoping his presence did something to mend her broken heart.

* * *

Harry yawned as he shut the library door closed behind him. He'd spent the past two hours cramming for an Ancient Runes test and couldn't wait to go to his dorm room for a good night's sleep.

As he walked down a corridor near the dungeons, he heard footsteps beside him and turned to see Michael Corner and Roger Davies leering at him.

"So, Potter," Roger laughed. "Going back up to your dorm or to Malfoy's?"

Harry blushed but then frowned at Roger's comment. He decided not to dignify it with an answer.

"Oh, looks like he hasn't gone that far with Malfoy, Michael!" Roger sneered.

Michael laughed, his eyes strangely malicious. Harry was suddenly scared, but he forced himself to stand his ground.

"Merlin knows what Malfoy wants with a virgin like you," Michael scoffed.

"Shut up," Harry retorted.

"Got nothing better than that?" Michael laughed, stepping forward.

"I suggest you stop right there before I hex you both," growled a voice.

Harry turned around and sighed with relief when he saw Draco standing there, his wand trained on the two Ravenclaws.

"Oh, how sweet," Roger laughed. "Coming to defend him, now?"

Draco snarled at the Ravenclaw. "What did Harry tell you? Shut. Up."

Michael held his hands up in mock defeat. "Oh, I'm terrified. Can't little Potty stand up for himself?"

Harry opened his mouth to protest when Draco growled and a jet of green flashed from his wand. Michael was sent sprawling on the ground, a bruise forming on his arm.

"What the hell, Malfoy!"

Draco's eyes were narrowed and dangerously cold. "Don't you dare say a word against Harry. He's ten times the man you'll ever hope to be in your pathetic life."

Roger pulled out his wand.

"I'll get you for that, Malfoy!"

Draco shrugged, his eyes unfazed.

"And if you do that, I'll get you," Harry said, raising his wand to the Ravenclaw.

"And we'll tell the professors on you," Michael said, grinning.

Draco barely suppressed rolling his eyes. "Do you realize we're in the Slytherin tower? Who do you think Snape would trust if it was my word against yours?"

Michael and Roger looked at each other in realization, which quickly formed into panic.

"Okay, okay," Roger said. "We're leaving now."

"Wait a moment," Draco said.

A second jet of magic shot from Draco's wand and hit the two Ravenclaws. Within seconds, they were puking out slugs.

"You're lucky," Draco said coolly. "I've chosen to be merciful, so that spell will only last for about two days."

Michael stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell was that for!" he yelled before puking out another slug. "We were – hic – leaving!"

Draco chuckled darkly. "You think I'd let you leave unscathed after insulting my boyfriend?"

With that, Draco took Harry by the hand and led him in the direction of the Gryffindor tower.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed. "You really didn't need to do that."

Draco shrugged. "They insulted you."

"But… slugs for two whole days?" Harry said uncertainly. "That's a bit harsh…"

"Now they know not to treat you like that."

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled, tugging on Draco's arm.

"What?"

Harry pushed Draco back against the wall, kissing him fiercely.

"Thank you," he said.

* * *

Two days later, Harry walked into the Great Hall flanked by Draco, Ron and a couple of other Gryffindors. His face instantly broke into a wide grin when he saw who was sitting up with the other professors.

He was running down the isle before he could stop himself.

"Sirius!"

He flung himself around the taller man, who chuckled in amusement.

"Hey there, Prongsie," Sirius smiled at his godson, ecstatic to finally see him after so many months.

"Did you get here all right?"

"Yes, though I must admit I much prefer apparition to the floo," Sirius grinned.

Harry nodded, knowing his godfather's tendency to get dizzy when traveling by floo powder.

"Remus and Tonks send their love," Sirius said. "And Teddy sends a bunch of garbled baby words."

Harry laughed. "I miss them. I missed _you._ "

Sirius smiled. "Missed you too, kid."

Sirius then looked behind Harry, and Harry turned around to see Draco standing a few feet away, smiling awkwardly.

"Draco," Harry said, beckoning the blonde over. "Sirius, this is Draco, my boyfriend."

"Nice to finally meet you, sir," Draco said, shaking Sirius' hand.

"Oh, Harry, he's a charmer!" Sirius laughed heartily. "Please call me Sirius."

Draco chuckled, though Harry caught his nervousness. "All right, Sirius."

"Now," Sirius said, looking at Draco pointedly. "I expect you to treat my godson well, all right? And by well I mean perfectly."

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, blushing.

"That's exactly how I intend to treat him, sir," Draco said, before realizing his mistake. "Sirius," he corrected it smoothly.

"Good. And must I lecture you on safety?"

Draco shook his head. "I take safety as a priority."

"Safety?" Harry asked, confused. "Dumbledore's got that all covered, Siri."

Sirius grinned. "Not that kind of safety."

"Then what kind of safety?"

"To put it plainly, I was referring to safe sex."

Harry nearly choked on his own tongue. "What?"

Sirius laughed, patting Harry on the back. "Oh, Prongsie."

Draco chuckled at Harry's flushed cheeks.

"Well, then, Mr. Malfoy," Sirius said, eyeing Draco up and down. "You seem like a good match for my godson. I've heard good things about you."

"Thank you," Draco said, glancing at Harry with a smile. "I intend to treat him the best way I can."

"And that is what I expect," Sirius said with sharp eyes. "If you hurt him, I'll have you know that I have ties in Azkaban and I can easily reserve a cell just for you."

Though his words were playful, Sirius' eyes were dead serious. Draco got the message.

"I understand," he said, holding his own. "But you have my word that I will not hurt Harry. I love him."

Sirius smiled at Harry, then at Draco, then at their joined hands. Harry smiled back with relief. From the look in his eyes, Harry knew that Sirius approved of them.

* * *

Hufflepuff was training for their next game against Slytherin to decide who would be playing Gryffindor in the finals. It was a particularly sunny day, and the Hufflepuff team was in high spirits as their practice strategies had been going well.

Cedric had just released the snitch from its casing and was now flying in pursuit of it, determined to catch it faster this time. Terrence Higgs was a formidable seeker and he had to make sure he was on top of his game if he wanted to secure Hufflepuff's place in the finals.

As he whizzed past one of the stands, he noticed a few Ministry wizards watching their practice. Cedric didn't mind; he had to practice flying while being watched by hundreds of students, anyway.

The snitch suddenly took a sharp u-turn and Cedric followed it after expertly diving to turn in a full circle. And then the snitch headed straight towards the group of Ministry wizards and Cedric inwardly cursed. Did the snitch have a malicious mind of his own?

As he shot towards the stands, he yelled a quick warning to the wizards seated there. Many of them rushed away quickly. All but one.

Cedric halted to a keening halt when the snitch was plucked out of the air.

"Sorry," Charlie Weasley said, grinning up at Cedric. "Couldn't help myself."

Cedric stared back at him, suddenly remembering Charlie's comment towards him that night in the kitchens. He had convinced himself that Charlie had merely been drunk, but now faced with the ex-Gryffindor, he found himself slightly nervous.

"It's all right," he said with a polite smile.

"You're an amazing flyer," Charlie said, handing the snitch up to Cedric, who'd dismounted his broom.

"You're even better," Cedric said. Charlie Weasley had been, of course, the captain and seeker for the Gryffindor team for years.

Charlie smiled at Cedric's words.

"Yeah, I miss playing games at Hogwarts," he said, looking down at the pitch longingly.

"You want to join our practice?" Cedric offered.

Charlie chuckled. "You're cute as well as generous."

Cedric blushed despite himself. He chuckled nervously. "I don't think so, but thank you."

"Well, unfortunately I've got to get back inside right now," Charlie said regretfully. "But I might take you up on that offer the next time you practice."

"Yeah," Cedric said, hoping he didn't sound as star struck as he felt. "Yeah, sure."

"Looking forward to it." Charlie winked at Cedric before leaving the stands.

"Cedric, can we practice shots now?" Susan was calling.

It was a moment before her question registered in Cedric's mind as he was still staring at Charlie's retreating form.

* * *

Later that evening, Oliver was showering in the Gryffindor locker rooms after he'd done a quick practice session on his own. Though there was still a long while before the finals, he wanted to make sure he stayed fit.

As the water cascaded down his body, he found himself thinking of Marcus, who hadn't made any effort to talk to Oliver. And yet, he'd been talking to Krum non-stop, it seemed. Oliver sighed. How could he compete with Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Quidditch Champion, of all people? Sure, Oliver had many admirers himself, but Viktor Krum was possibly the most well known Quidditch player out there. Hell, even Oliver was attracted to him.

Oliver hated himself for understanding why Marcus would choose Viktor over him. But he hated himself even more for letting himself believe he was good enough for the Slytherin.

When he'd finished his shower, he quickly pulled two towels off the nearby rack. He wound one tightly around his waist and used the other to dry his hair. When he walked out into the changing room area, he slipped on the tiles in shock when he saw who was sitting there.

"Jesus, Oliver!" Marcus exclaimed when Oliver slipped to the ground. He quickly helped the Gryffindor up to sit on the wooden bench.

Oliver blinked at Marcus then his eyes narrowed in his attempt to hide all the hurt he'd been feeling. Marcus, on the other hand, was just looking at Oliver like nothing had changed.

"What are you doing here?" Oliver asked, getting up and opening his locker.

Marcus shrugged. "I was looking for you, figured you'd be here if anywhere."

Oliver just nodded.

"So," Marcus continued, not noticing the tension in Oliver's body. "You going to ask me or should I ask you?"

Oliver looked at him quizzically. "What?"

Marcus chuckled. "I guess I'll do it then. Will you go to the ball with me?"

Oliver frowned.

"What's wrong?" Marcus asked.

"Funny you should ask," Oliver rolled his eyes and turned away, setting his bag down on the bench and pulling out his clothes.

"Baby," Marcus said, brow furrowed in concern though Oliver couldn't see. "I don't know what's wrong. Tell me?"

Oliver scoffed.

"Shouldn't you be asking Krum to the ball?"

Marcus looked at his boyfriend in confusion. "Viktor? Why?"

Oliver raised his eyes to look at Marcus, eyes narrowed. "Daphne told me you used to fancy him. And considering the fact that you've been flirting with him non-stop since he got here, I'd say you still have a crush on him."

Try as he might, Oliver couldn't help his voice breaking as he spoke those words. He found himself wincing, trying to keep himself composed.

Marcus was shaking his head. He reached over to Oliver but the keeper stepped back.

"Oliver, it's not like that!" Marcus insisted.

"Yeah?" Oliver said. Though his tone was sharp his eyes betrayed his sadness. "Then why haven't you even spoken to me since that night in the kitchens?"

Marcus sighed. "I… I didn't mean to ignore you. I was just… caught up with meeting Krum for the first time, I guess."

Oliver rolled his eyes and turned away again.

"Oliver, please!"

Oliver felt Marcus' hands wrap around his chest and tried to struggle out of his grip.

"Let go!"

"No," Marcus said firmly. He turned Oliver around so that they were facing each other, with Marcus holding Oliver firmly by the shoulders. "It's true, I _did_ used to fancy Krum, but it was just a passing phase. I mean, who didn't once fancy him? But I don't anymore, I promise you. It's you I want."

"Why would you want me if you could have him?"

"What do you mean?"

Oliver sighed raggedly. "He's Viktor Krum! He's practically a sex god! I'm just… I can't compete with that."

Oliver looked down sadly, suddenly ashamed at himself more than angry.

Marcus lifted Oliver's face up. "Oliver… you're the most beautiful person I've ever known, or even seen. Sure, Viktor's good looking, but he's not the one who makes my heart stop. He's not the one I want to be with every night. He's not you. He's not the one I love."

Oliver saw Marcus' eyes brimming with emotion.

"I love you too," he whispered. "I just don't know if I'm good enough… for you."

Marcus growled. "Stop it. You're too good for me, that's what you are. I'm sorry I've been a crap boyfriend lately, but I love you. I _love_ you. You got that?"

Oliver nodded, sniffling a little. "Wh-why were you hugging him, then?"

Marcus looked at Oliver in confusion before realization dawned. "Oh, that! Viktor fancies Terrence."

Oliver's eyes widened. "And?"

"He asked me to help him get together with him, and I talked to Terrence, who told me he thought Viktor was cute. I told Viktor that and that's when he hugged me. And the reason I've been so preoccupied lately is also because Adrian's been trying to get with Daphne, and he begged me to help him with that too."

Oliver blinked. "…Oh."

Marcus held Oliver's face in his hands, gazing into puddles of honeyed brown. "I promise I don't fancy Viktor anymore, and he doesn't fancy me. I've got all I could ever want already."

Oliver nodded, finally letting the remaining tension out of his body.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you," Marcus said sadly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Oliver shook his head. "There's no need. You loving me is enough."

"Good," Marcus said, leaning down to kiss Oliver lovingly. "Because that I'll do forever."

Oliver smiled into the kiss and then felt the familiar rush of desire. He realized he was clad in a loose towel, his body still wet from the shower.

Marcus seemed to realize this too as he trailed his hands all over Oliver's bare skin. When his fingers tweaked a nipple, Oliver gasped, his face burrowed in Marcus' chest. Marcus pushed their bodies together and moaned when their hard members rubbed against each other through their clothing.

"Marcus…" Oliver breathed, his voice husky with arousal.

Marcus smirked as he backed Oliver down onto the bench. He removed Oliver's towel, leaving the keeper completely unclothed, before moving to remove his own clothing.

Oliver cried out when Marcus entered him, his face flushed and sweaty as his chest heaved with pants. Marcus leaned down to kiss him fiercely, biting Oliver's lips in his passion.

Marcus reveled in the sight of the Gryffindor captain moaning and writhing beneath him. He kissed Oliver gently before burying a loud, strangled moan in his lover's shoulder blades as they both reached their climaxes together.

"Wow," Marcus said breathlessly when they lay side-by-side on the cold tiles a few minutes later.

"That was good," Oliver chuckled. "I won't be able to walk in the morning, though."

Marcus laughed, leaning in to kiss Oliver lovingly on the cheek.

"Love you," the Slytherin said fondly.

"I love you too."

"Hey, did you cast a silencing spell before we…" Oliver asked suddenly.

"No, did you?"

"No."

"Oh, bollocks."

* * *

That's it for right now! Might upload another one tonight :)

Thanks to all of you who've read/favorited/reviewed/followed! Glad you guys are enjoying the story. And if there's anything you'd like to see happen in the story, any couples you're rooting for, or any characters you'd like to be given more screen time (screen time? story time. you know what I mean), then let me know! I have a lot of the story already written, but I started it three years ago, so when I read through early chapters I almost feel like I'm reading something I didn't write myself! But point is, I'm editing/adding to chapters before I post them, so any feedback would be awesome :)

xoxo Lacey


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

The Great Hall was once again decked to the hilt with extravagance, but this time for the annual winter ball. The long tables had been replaced with white marble tables, and the whole room was enchanted to snow lightly. Crystal snowflakes of all colors floated in the air. The ceiling of the hall had been charmed to appear like a midnight sky with a full moon glowing brightly. The dance floor itself looked like it was made of crystal ice. There were banquet tables covered with plates of scrumptious food, ranging from ice cream to chocolate frogs to enchanted cotton candy.

At the back of the hall, the professors and Ministry wizards were seated at one long table, overlooking the entire room.

Harry was dancing with Draco in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by many other couples reveling in the beautiful night.

"Sorry!" Harry exclaimed guiltily when he stepped on Draco's foot.

Draco chuckled. "Granger wasn't kidding when she said you have two left feet."

"I'm trying my best!"

"I know, love."

"Hey, Draco," Harry said looking uncertainly into his boyfriend's grey eyes.

"Yes?"

"About what Michael and Roger were saying to me the other day…" he began.

"Those bastards?" Draco scoffed. He glanced to his left, where Michael Corner was dancing with a girl Harry didn't recognize. The Ravenclaw instantly looked alarmed and quickly danced his date away from the blond Slytherin. He'd only just finished puking slugs that night and he did not want to risk a repeat.

Harry rolled his eyes in amusement. "Yeah. I was just thinking… about what they said…"

"Why?"

"Well, when they wondered why you chose a virgin like me…" Harry was blushing madly now but decided to say what he needed to say. "I'm sorry if me not being ready to… to go that far with you just yet is… is bothering you or anything…"

Draco sighed and silenced the rambling Harry with a gentle kiss. "You really are thick."

"What?"

The Slytherin rolled his eyes, twirling Harry around so that the Gryffindor's back was pressed against his chest.

"I would never push you, Harry," he explained. "I'm perfectly content with where we are at the moment. I'm not with you for sex."

"Y-you're not? At all?" Harry asked, confused. Was Draco not attracted to him?

"No, that's not what I meant," Draco sighed. "Of course I want you. I want to make love to you, Harry. But not until you're ready."

Harry smiled up at his boyfriend and angled his head to capture the blonde's lips again.

"I want you to be my first. I love you so much."

Draco's eyes lit up and Harry knew he had never seen anything more beautiful.

"I love you too. Now stop being so thick."

Harry laughed. "Can't help it sometimes."

"I can see that."

* * *

"Cedric!"

The Hufflepuff turned around and saw Susan Bones walking towards him. Her dress glistened under the artificial moonlight.

"Oh, hey, Susan."

"Why aren't you dancing?"

Cedric chuckled, shrugging. "Don't have anyone to dance with."

"Oh, come on!" Susan laughed. "A guy like you shouldn't spend the entire ball off the dance floor."

"I don't mind," Cedric said good-naturedly.

"Don't be silly," Susan insisted. "You want to dance with me? Just a song."

"What about Terry?" Cedric asked, referring to Susan's date.

Susan shrugged. "We're just friends, and I'm sure he won't mind. He's over there with Roger and Zacharias, anyway."

Cedric followed her gaze and saw the three boys talking animatedly with each other by the punch bowl.

He shrugged, smiling. "All right, then."

"Great!" Susan said as they headed to the dance floor.

* * *

Oliver smiled contentedly as he bit off another piece of his cotton candy. He was seated at a table with Marcus and Terrence after deciding to take a short break from dancing. Adrian and Daphne, who the former had finally gotten the courage to ask to the ball that morning, were still on the dance floor. Marcus was nuzzling Oliver's neck, much to the amusement of Terrence, who sat there rolling his eyes.

"How's the DADA assignment of yours going, Terrence?" Oliver asked the Slytherin, trying to make conversation.

Terrence sighed. "Not well. I don't even understand what Professor Cranmer wants."

"You don't understand much in that class," Marcus drawled.

Terrence glared at him. "I'm not any worse than you."

"Hey, I actually got a decent grade on that last essay."

"That's because you stole Weasley's notes."

Oliver stared incredulously at his boyfriend. "You what?" he squeaked.

Marcus sent Terrence a death glare. "Thanks a lot."

"You can't steal Percy's notes!" Oliver complained.

"I know, I know," Marcus said. "I'll apologize to him, I guess."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "You Slytherins are so… so…"

"Sly? Deceiving? Untrustworthy?" Terrence offered, earning him another glare from Marcus.

"So Slytherin," Oliver sighed.

"I'll make it up to you," Marcus whispered in Oliver's ear.

A soft smile instantly played on the scot's lips, but he tried to suppress it.

"How?" he asked with mock innocence.

Marcus trailed his lips on Oliver's ear, making the Gryffindor shiver.

"I can think of a few ways," he whispered.

Terrence, meanwhile, was scrunching his nose in disgust. "Guys! Get a room."

Oliver chuckled and pushed Marcus off him.

Just then, the doors of the Great Hall opened and in came the Durmstrang students. Some of them walked with their dates, but some met their dates once inside, walking straight to them and bowing in a manner associated with the strict cordiality of Durmstrang.

Oliver and Terrence both missed Marcus' smirk when they saw Viktor Krum walking over to their table.

"Terrence," Viktor said as he dipped into a quick bow in front of the blond boy.

Terrence was completely frozen with shock. Marcus chuckled and Oliver stepped on his foot to silence him.

"Vill you dance with me?" Viktor asked, offering his hand.

Marcus cleared his throat loudly when Terrence still seemed frozen. The Slytherin was jolted out of his state and nodded quickly at the Bulgarian.

"Yes," he said.

Viktor smiled and led the shorter boy onto the dance floor.

"That was so cute," Oliver said, grinning. "Terrence looks so happy."

"So does Viktor," Marcus said pointedly, making Oliver turn to him.

"I'm sorry for thinking that you two were…" Oliver trailed off guiltily.

Marcus shook his head and kissed his boyfriend, tasting the sweet candy on his tongue.

"It's okay. We're good now, right?"

"We're perfect."

"Good, because you're spending the night with me in the spare room."

"Oh, and why would I do that?"

"Because," Marcus whispered. "I'm going to fuck you all night long."

Oliver's groin stirred at the thought but tried to keep his face nonplussed.

"Hmm, I'm not sure that's a good enough reason," he said teasingly.

Marcus growled lightly into Oliver's ear and the scot shivered. He loved it when Marcus did that. It reminded him of how strong and rough his boyfriend could get.

"Not sure, are you?" he said as his hand trailed down to Oliver's zipper. He could tell that his boyfriend was already getting hard at his words.

"Marcus… stop," Oliver whined. "This is the worst place for me to get an erection."

Marcus smirked. "Say you'll spend the night with me then."

Oliver rolled his eyes. Marcus' hand pressed a little more and Oliver bit his lip, nearly drawing blood.

"Of course," he said, his voice strained.

Marcus chuckled. "Thought so."

* * *

Harry buried his face in the crook of Draco's neck, reveling in the warmth of his lover and the way he fit perfectly in his embrace.

"You having a good time?" Draco asked.

"The best," Harry smiled at the Slytherin, wondering what in the world he could have possibly done to land himself such a great person.

He leaned forward to kiss him, but then felt Draco pushing against his chest, holding him away.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Draco said before turning them around. "Sirius was looking this way, that's all."

Harry laughed. "You're so concerned with propriety."

"I don't want him to think I'm corrupting you," Draco exclaimed.

"But you are," Harry chuckled, his eyes teasing.

"Oh, am I?"

"Yes," Harry giggled. "I was innocent before I met you."

Draco smiled. "You still are."

"Well, my thoughts aren't," Harry confessed, before blushing wildly at what he just said.

Draco's eyes widened before he let out a laugh. "Why is that, now?"

"Draco…" Harry protested.

"What exactly do you think of?" Draco whispered.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not discussing this right now!"

"Why not?"

"We're in the middle of a dance floor, not to mention in public!"

Draco smirked. "Oh, _those_ kinds of thoughts."

"You're annoying," Harry sighed grumpily.

Draco just laughed.

"Oi, Draco," came a voice behind the couple. The two turned to see Blaise, who was holding Seamus as they danced.

"What is it, Blaise?" Draco asked, mildly irritated to have been interrupted.

Blaise simply gestured at something on the other side of the dance floor.

Harry looked and saw Viktor Krum and Terrence Higgs dancing together, their foreheads pressed together gently. Viktor was saying something to the Slytherin with a smirk, and Terrence was looking down shyly.

"Thank bloody Merlin," Draco said.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Terrence has been crushing on him for ages," Draco explained. "The other day he was talking to Blaise and I about Viktor. He talked for an hour straight before either of us could get a word in to shut him up."

Harry laughed. "They look good together."

"Not better than us," Draco said.

"Why is that?" Harry chuckled.

"Well, I look perfect and you look perfect," Draco shrugged confidently.

Harry laughed. "Well I gotta love your modesty."

"I call it honesty," Draco smirked.

"Hey, Harry, Draco," another voice greeted them.

Harry looked up and smiled, seeing Daphne with Adrian.

"Hey, Daphne," he said cheerfully. He was glad that the beautiful girl seemed to be having a lovely time. And by the way Adrian was looking at Daphne, with care and fondness so different to his usual gloomy face, Harry could tell he had genuine feelings for her. "You having a good time?"

"Absolutely," she laughed. "The best night I've had in a while."

Adrian smiled at that before he twirled her away from Harry and Draco. It was then that Harry saw Pansy and Theodore dancing together, locked in a tight embrace.

"I'll be growing grey hair before Theodore plucks up the courage to actually confess his feelings," Draco drawled, following Harry's gaze.

"Oh, Theodore likes Pansy?"

Draco nodded. "For years now. Pansy knows it, too. Theo's just got a thick head. Kind of like you, actually."

"Hey!" Harry whined.

Draco smirked.

A few moments later, Harry noticed Ron sitting alone at a table. He wondered briefly where Astoria, his date, was until he saw her mingling with a few Slytherins on the other side of the room. Harry then wondered why Ron wasn't sitting with the Gryffindors until he remembered the fight he and Hermione had. Hermione was seated with Neville, Dean and Parvati. They all didn't have dates but had agreed to dance with each other for the night.

"The weasel looks rather lonely," Draco commented.

"Don't call him that, Draco," Harry sighed softly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine. Weasley looks lonely."

"Yeah…"

"Is he upset with Greengrass junior?"

"I don't know," Harry confessed, eyeing his friend worriedly. "He's having a hard time with the fact that she's a Slytherin. He doesn't think Gryffindors and Slytherins can, you know… be together."

Draco shrugged. "Don't worry too much about it. Besides, I know for a fact that Gryffindors and Slytherins can be together."

Harry smiled. "I know that too."

* * *

Cedric was still dancing with Susan half an hour later, as Terry had insisted they kept dancing while he discussed Quidditch tactics with his fellow Ravenclaws.

Halfway into a song, however, Susan's eyes widened as she looked behind Cedric.

"Ced?" she said.

"Yep?"

"Turn around."

Cedric did so and saw Charlie Weasley standing there, a cordial smile on his face. The ex-Gryffindor turned to Susan.

"I'm sorry, but may I take Cedric off you for a dance?" he asked politely.

Susan looked excitedly at Cedric before nodding. "Yes! Yes, of course you may. Have fun, Ced!"

Cedric turned, wide eyed, to look at Charlie.

Charlie smirked at him as he moved forward to place one hand on the Hufflepuff's shoulder and the other one on his waist.

"So," he said as they danced. "Since I've told you that I think you're both cute and generous, may I ask you what you think of me?"

Cedric blushed, not used to being courted in such a way. It was usually him being the charmer.

"I… I think you're really good looking," he said, trying to sound vaguely eloquent. "And I can tell you're a really great guy."

Charlie smiled. "Was that girl your girlfriend?"

Cedric shook his head.

"Good," Charlie said. "I was wondering if I had any competition."

Cedric shook his head again. "You don't."

"Great. Can I kiss you, then?"

Cedric nodded and Charlie leaned in to press their lips together in a chaste but tender kiss.

"Cute, generous and a good kisser," Charlie commented, chuckling. "I think you may be a keeper."

Cedric blushed.

The seeker and ex-seeker danced together for the whole night, their bodies fitting perfectly against one another. At one point, Cedric raised his head and saw Oliver dancing with Marcus. He met the scot's gaze and Oliver's eyes lit up when he realized whom Cedric was dancing with. Oliver gave him a grin and a thumbs up and Cedric returned it with a happy smile.

* * *

The night was alive with love and passion and all things good, and it would have been a great one had it ended the way it begun. But it didn't.

Harry had his head on Draco's shoulder when the clock struck midnight, the sound booming like an echo through the room.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Harry didn't register what was happening until a scream ripped through the air. And then it became all too clear, for standing in the doorway was a group of black-cloaked wizards.

Death-Eaters.

The hall erupted in panic. The professors rushed down from their table and instantly began raising their wands, as did the wizards of the ministry.

It seemed like an age of silence followed, as the Death-Eaters just stood there, staring into the room like ghosts.

And then they raised their wands and began shouting out curses. Students ran towards the other end of the hall in panic as the fighting ensued.

Harry brandished his wand immediately. "Stupefy!" he shouted, aiming his wand at the nearest Death-Eater. The spell hit its target.

Harry looked around him wildly, trying to get a grip of his surroundings. Draco had shoved himself off of Harry and was now at the other end of the room. Dumbledore and the other professors were advancing on the Death-Eaters, who seemed to want to stay near the door.

The room was alight with spells being cast this way and that.

"Harry!" Ron called.

Harry ran over to him and saw in relief that Ron, Hermione, Dean, Neville and Parvati were all right, taking shelter behind a large table.

"How did they get in here?" Parvati shrieked.

"I don't know," Ron said while Harry looked around them in panic.

"We've got to help!" Dean said, getting up.

"No," Harry said, shocking himself with the sharpness of his tone. "You guys stay here and stay safe."

"But – "

"Don't move," Harry said sternly. Dean backed down.

* * *

Harry ran to where Dumbledore and Sirius stood fighting, dodging a couple of spells as he went. From somewhere near him, he heard Professor Flitwick calling for all the students to take shelter and let the professors do the fighting.

 _Right,_ Harry thought. _Like I'm going to do that._

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry cried.

"Take shelter, Harry!" the wizard yelled at him, his tone forceful.

Beside him, Sirius looked at Harry in alarm.

"Harry, take cover now!" he insisted, pushing Harry away.

"No," Harry said firmly. He took stance beside his godfather.

"Harry," Sirius said, his tone sharp.

"I won't leave you to fight them yourselves," Harry said, equally as sharply.

Sirius sighed and finally nodded, turning back to the battle. He made sure to keep Harry a few feet behind him.

"Petrificus totalus!" he cried at a Death-Eater who was aiming a curse at Colin Creevey.

The hall was in complete chaos. On one side, Harry saw Blaise leaning over an injured Seamus, trying to drag him behind the nearest table. He also saw Madame Pomfrey tending to a deep cut on Adrian Pucey's arm in the midst of the fight. Harry was relieved to see Draco standing beside Professor Snape uninjured.

"Crucio!"

Harry turned around at the sound of the dreaded word and his heart clenched when he saw Pansy writhing on the floor. Theodore was lying still next to her, petrified.

"No!" Harry cried. He cast a spell at the Death-Eater responsible, sending him crashing into the nearest wall. He ran up to Pansy, who was panting in fear. Then he muttered the counter-curse to Theodore, and the Slytherin instantly got to his feet, eyes blazing in anger. He brandished his wand to attack the Death-Eater who had hurt Pansy, but Harry stopped him.

"No," he insisted. "Go get Pansy somewhere sheltered."

Theodore hesitated for a moment then nodded, lifting Pansy and hurrying away with her in the direction of Ron, who beckoned him over.

Harry turned around and deflected a curse heading Terrence's way. The Slytherin spun around and nodded at Harry in thanks before Viktor ushered him to shelter with the other Durmstrang students behind the main table.

"Harry, watch out!"

Harry turned around quickly and saw a jet of fire rushing towards him.

"Aguamenti!" he shouted. The fire died under the jet of water that appeared from his wand.

As he ran across the hall, headed for Sirius again, he saw Adrian Pucey desperately grappling with a Death-Eater as both their wands had been knocked out of their grasps.

Adrian landed a punch on the Death-Eater but was soon slammed down onto the ground. He cried out in pain.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry yelled at the Death-Eater, but his spell was deflected.

Daphne came up beside him. He had never seen the blond so impassioned with anger and fear.

"Petrificus totalus!" she shouted. Instantly, the Death-Eater froze and let go of Adrian, who quickly rushed away with Daphne, both glancing back at Harry in thanks.

Suddenly one of the Death-Eaters aimed a curse at the stone wall of the hall, sending many large pieces of it tumbling down. Harry's eyes widened in fear when he saw one of the large stone pieces plummet to where Hermione was.

Before Harry could move, Ron leaped out of hiding and lunged at Hermione, shoving her out of the way. The big portion of stone collided with the floor barely inches away from where Ron landed.

Hermione clung to him, her eyes blazing with fear. Though Ron was shivering with fear, too, he held her.

"It's okay, you're safe," he whispered.

It was then when the Death-Eaters suddenly stopped firing curses. A magical, translucent shield appeared around them, sealing them off from everyone else. Professor McGonagall cast a spell on the shield, as did some others including Harry, but it would not crack.

Then Harry saw something that made his heart stop. One of the Death-Eaters had removed his hood.

It was Voldemort.

* * *

Gasps echoed across the hall. Harry heard some students burst into sobs of terror. He lifted a hand to his scar. It was burning. He cried out.

"Harry!" Sirius said, rushing over. "Are you all right?"

Harry shook his head, his teeth gritting at the pain.

"Students and professors of Hogwarts," a voice boomed.

It was Voldemort. Harry would know that voice anywhere.

"Remove yourself immediately from this school, Tom Riddle," Dumbledore's voice ordered, his voice loud, firm and confident.

Voldemort let out a spine-clenching laugh.

"Oh," he said with delight. "I see you are not too happy to see me, Professor Dumbledore."

The silence that filled the hall was louder that any other silence Harry had known.

"Oliver?" someone called.

Harry looked around but didn't see the Gryffindor captain anywhere.

"Well, you see," Voldemort continued, his eyes blazing like icy crystals through the silver-tinged shield. "I merely came here to greet you all and see how you were faring after that little incident on the Quidditch Pitch."

Near Harry, Urquhart growled.

Voldemort's lips curled in an unpleasant smile.

"And now I see you are sheltering those who declined my offer to become part of my army," he said, looking in contempt at the students from Durmstrang.

"We'd decline again!" someone called.

Voldemort chuckled darkly, surveying the Durmstrang boys, who stood united one on end of the hall, glaring at the Dark Lord.

"Ah, Viktor," Voldemort said, eyeing the Bulgarian with a smile. "Your parents joined my ranks so quickly. Why did you not?"

Viktor glared at Voldemort, his breaths deep and angry.

"You vill die a horrible death ven we vin zis war," he said through clenched teeth.

Voldemort chuckled darkly. "No, you will, for joining the side that will inevitably fail."

And then Voldemort's eyes met Harry's own. Though Harry's heart was pounding impossibly quickly in his chest, he stared at the Dark Lord with determination and hatred in his gaze.

"Ahh, Harry Potter," Voldemort said. "How I've missed you. We have not seen each other in a while. I still remember when poor Lily and James met their dear ends."

"Don't you dare say their names," Harry growled, anger emanating from his every word.

"Touchy, there, I see?" Voldemort laughed, the sound more like nails on a chalkboard. "You see, I love seeing all of you suffer. It brings me much delight to see you attempt to predict my next move, worrying in fear when I decide to attack or to recruit more members… Your fear is amusing."

"Stop at once," Dumbledore said. "You will not win this war, Tom. How dare you enter this school, the school you once graduated from, and massacre its students?"

Voldemort let out another laugh.

Charlie Weasley hurled another powerful spell at the shield, but like all the others before it, it failed to make any difference.

"You might want to save your efforts," Voldemort grinned. "Well, students of Hogwarts, you may be glad to know I do have some mercy in me. As I have loved so much to watch you suffer as you await in fear for my next move, I will have you suffer a little longer by not attacking any further. I will leave now, but I will come back. I will come back, and you will lose this war."

Voldemort's eyes locked on Harry's. Harry looked straight back at him, his determination and anger making him unafraid.

Voldemort walked forward. A circle of Death-Eaters surrounded him.

"Ah," he observed as he widened his malicious eyes. "I see one of you has been left on the wrong side of this shield of mine."

He walked to the edge of the room to where some large pieces of stone were lying where they'd fallen. Harry gasped when he saw Hogwarts robes peaking from under one of the huge stone fragments.

Voldemort waved his wand and the stone moved a couple of inches to the right. He smiled and walked over.

"No," Harry breathed.

 _No! This is just like my dream. How did I not see this before?!_ He had been too preoccupied with the chaos. He had not seen this moment for what it truly was. But now he did. He'd seen this happen before in his dream. And the thought made his heart stop.

Voldemort leaned down and grasped something. When he lifted his hand, it was not something he was clutching. It was someone.

" _NO!_ "

Harry turned and saw Marcus' face twisted with grief and pain and anger and frustration, all in one. The Slytherin ran forward but Adrian and Draco held him back. He fought them, still screaming in anger.

For clutched in Voldemort's grasp was Oliver.

Harry's mind was spinning. _No, not Oliver. Please not Oliver._ Though Harry would have been upset if it had been any student, even one he didn't know, his heart clenched painfully to see someone who meant so much to him in Voldemort's hands.

"Let him go, Tom," Dumbledore ordered, his tone tinged with steely anger. "Let him go and leave. _Now._ "

Voldemort smiled. He looked at Oliver, who he was clutching by the back of the neck. The Gryffindor's face was twisted in pain.

"Let me go," Oliver bit out, writhing weakly in Voldemort's grip.

"Oliver!" Marcus was still yelling. "You bastard, let him go!"

Voldemort smirked, eyeing Oliver with cold amusement. He then turned to address the rest of the school.

"As I've already told you, Professor, I am leaving now. But because I'm being so gracious in leaving you, mustn't I get a reward for my mercifulness?"

"You show no mercy of any kind if you do not let him go this instant," Percy Weasley shouted, his face red with anger.

"Get your hands off him!" Cedric was yelling, clutching his wand tightly, and aiming for the Dark Lord.

Voldemort smiled again. "I've decided to take my own reward, as you seem so unwilling to give me one. So for showing mercy in not killing you all now, I shall take this one with me," he said, gesturing to Oliver, who was now breathing hard. Whether it was from fear or pain, Harry didn't know.

Gasps of panic spread across the Great Hall.

"Bastard!" Marcus shouted. "Don't take him, don't you fucking take him!"

"Ah," Voldemort grinned, turning to the Slytherin. "Looks like my reward has an admirer already."

Oliver struggled in Voldemort's grip. "I'm not your fucking reward."

Voldemort paid him no mind, still looking at Marcus with steely, sick delight.

"Marcus, I love you," Oliver said suddenly, though the last words cracked as a sob tore out of his body.

"Oliver," Marcus cried, tears streaming down his face now. "I love you. Please don't take him. Take me instead, take me."

Voldemort's smirk widened. "How unfortunate that you care so much about this boy. Though he is quite a pretty thing, isn't he?"

Voldemort trailed a finger down Oliver's trembling cheek.

Marcus screamed in rage.

"Don't you fucking touch him!" he yelled, every word bursting with raw, uncontrollable emotion. Draco and Adrian were not enough to hold him back anymore and Terrence and Theodore had to step in to prevent Marcus from charging at the shield for his lover.

Through his anger, Harry's heart broke for Oliver and Marcus.

"Stop this at once, Tom!" Dumbledore yelled, furious.

Harry growled at Voldemort, barely containing his anger. "Is this your idea of a sick game?"

Voldemort laughed. "Oh yes, Harry. This is my favorite game. Especially as this game brings me so much joy."

With that, Voldemort shoved Oliver towards his Death-Eaters, who held Oliver's hands behind him and held him still.

"I love you," the Gryffindor mouthed at Marcus even as tears streamed down his face.

"I will take my leave now," Voldemort said with one last gleeful glance at Harry.

And in a flash of black, just like in Harry's dream, Voldemort and his Death-Eaters disappeared, taking Oliver with them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

Harry held his head in his hands. It was 2a.m. in the morning now and most of the students had left the hall to go either to the dormitories, escorted by professors, or to the hospital wing if they were injured. Dumbledore, a couple professors and the ministry wizards had stayed in the hall to discuss what actions they would take.

Harry had stayed too, wanting to be a part of the talks. Ron and Hermione insisted that they stay too to give Harry support, for which the raven-haired boy was grateful. Marcus was there too, having refused to leave. He was now sitting on the floor, leaning his head against one of the table legs. He'd been screaming and yelling until his voice was cracked and hoarse. But now it seemed he'd fought all the fight he had in him, as he appeared lost and deflated.

"Harry?"

Harry didn't turn around. He knew it was Draco.

"Harry please look at me," Draco said. Harry heard his boyfriend take a seat next to him but still refused to look in his direction.

"I'm sorry for shoving you away from me," he said softly.

Harry scoffed, finally raising his head. Draco looked at him with such concern and care that at that moment it made Harry angry.

"Why'd you do it, then?" Harry asked, eyes blazing. "You knew I needed your support but you left me."

Draco sighed. He reached over a hand to touch Harry's on the table but Harry pulled his away.

"Harry, you know I can't let Voldemort know of our relationship," he explained, his eyes pained. "If they know that we're… _involved,_ who knows what that would do to my status as a spy, not to mention my parents'."

Harry sighed. He knew Draco was right. The blond was only doing what he had to do.

"I'm sorry," Harry said tiredly. He leaned over and was instantly enveloped in Draco's embrace. "I understand. I'm just so frustrated at everything right now."

Draco nodded, pressing his lips to Harry's hair. "I know, love. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

"No," Harry said softly, reveling in Draco's warmth. "It wasn't your fault."

"No, but I still wish things were different," Draco said.

Harry smiled up at him tiredly. "We all do."

"We will get Oliver back and defeat Voldemort," Draco said firmly.

"We have to," Harry replied, eyes brimming with tears. "And we need to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else… I wouldn't know what to do if he ever hurt you, or ever took you like he took Oliver… Merlin…"

Draco tightened his embrace. "Don't worry about that just yet. I love you."

"I love you too. So much."

* * *

Half an hour later, the remaining wizards in the hall were gathered around the main table, trying to work out a strategy with how to deal with Voldemort. Their main priority, of course, was to get Oliver back. It was nearing dawn, but no one had any desire to leave. They felt no tiredness now, only determination.

"Do we have any idea where Voldemort is based currently?" Charlie Weasley was asking.

Dumbledore looked to Snape, who was another spy for the Order.

"I suspect he is based somewhere near Durmstrang," he said, frowning. "He has not informed me of much as I never even got wind of this attack he had planned. It might be that he mistrusts me."

"Do not push your limits with him, Severus," Dumbledore warned. "Try to remain on his good side. Your safety is priority."

Professor Snape nodded, though in his eyes Harry could see a tinge of frustration.

"Where was he last sighted before this attack?" Sirius asked.

"In a forest just north of Durmstrang," one of the ministry wizards replied. "He and a large group of Death-Eaters were seen taking camp there."

"Then why aren't we there searching for them already?" Marcus growled impatiently.

"Mr. Flint, I understand you are concerned about Mr. Wood, as we all are, but we must plan this strategically," Dumbledore said, unflinching under Marcus' death glare. "We plan to send a small group to try to retrieve Mr. Wood, but we simply must know more in order to plan it. I will not have more people harmed because of our lack of tact."

"What about my parents?" Draco asked. "Have you heard from them?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, unfortunately we have had no contact with Lucius or Narcissa. Their last message to us came yesterday evening, telling us that they had not much to report."

"Wouldn't they be with Voldemort, though?" Ron asked. "They would know where he is, then."

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore sighed. "The Malfoys were not chosen to assist Voldemort in his capture of Durmstrang and have therefore been in the dark as to his whereabouts."

Harry let out a noise of frustration. "There must be some way we can know more. There just has to be."

Draco tightened his grip on Harry's hand in reassurance.

Just then, the clock chimed 3a.m. Marcus growled.

"I can't believe we're sitting here doing nothing while Oliver has to spend more and more time with that bastard," he snarled.

Suddenly the door opened and in ran Professor Filch, who had been put on guard in front of the hall.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked.

"A 'Narcissa Malfoy' requests entrance to this hall, sir," he said.

Draco stood up.

"Of course, let her in, let her in!" Dumbledore yelled.

A few moments later, the doors opened again and Narcissa Malfoy walked in, stumbling slightly. Her hair was tangled and there were blotches of blood on her cheek.

"Mother!" Draco gasped, running towards her immediately.

* * *

Theodore sat beside Pansy's hospital bed and watched while his housemate was checked over by Madame Pomfrey. The nurse gave Pansy's arm a thorough bandaging and left with her a couple of vials of calming draught to be taken at regular intervals. She then hurried away to attend to the tens of other students who had similar injuries.

"Pans?" Theodore said when the nurse had left.

"What?" Pansy said. "Hey, is my hair looking all right?"

Theodore chuckled. "It looks perfect."

Pansy smiled before looking at Theodore closely. "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're all red."

Theodore realized he was blushing and quickly looked down, trying in vain to control his face.

"What's going on?" Pansy laughed. "Is there gossip I don't know about? Dear Merlin, I hope Pomfrey doesn't keep me for the night. Think about how much I'll miss out on."

Theodore rolled his eyes, used to Pansy's antics. "No, Pans, it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"Well, I…" Theodore trailed off. Then he glanced at Pansy once more. When he saw the bandages around her arm, he was reminded of the attack and why he needed to say what he needed to say.

"I have feelings for you," Theodore said, and then decided to blurt the rest of it out as well. "I've liked you for so long and I haven't told you because I… Well I was scared, but now after the attack I realize that I could have lost you and the thought of losing you without you knowing that I… that I like you is just too much…"

Theodore stopped and took a breath. He forced himself to remain composed. He was a Slytherin for Merlin's sake! And here he was fidgeting and nervous in front of Pansy.

Pansy looked at Theodore curiously for a moment and then her face broke out into a cheeky smile.

"Oh, you're so daft sometimes."

"What?" Theodore spluttered.

Pansy laughed. "I know you like me."

"What?" Theodore repeated, his eyes going wide.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Theo!"

"No, I mean… if you knew then why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, I wanted you to tell me. I was starting to give up on you but hey, looks like you plucked up the courage, huh?"

Theodore let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm sorry it took this long."

"Well," Pansy began, her lips spreading into a smile. "Now that you've told me, finally, I can tell you that I like you too."

Theodore's eyes widened impossibly. "What?"

"Is it a usual thing that you say _what_ this many times?" Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Theodore went red. "You like me?"

"Yes, you daft fool."

Theodore laughed.

"Well?" Pansy asked, looking at Theodore expectantly.

"Well wh –"

"No, don't you say _what_ again," Pansy said, sighing. "Now that we've established that we like each other…" she gestured at Theodore to understand what she was hinting at.

Theodore was none the wiser.

Pansy groaned. "Are you going to kiss me or do you need me to stomp over there and kiss you?"

Theodore smiled and rushed over. Their lips met in a fierce kiss. After all, they had four years to make up for.

* * *

"Oh Merlin," Hermione gasped, seeing Narcissa stumbling into the hall.

"Mother what happened?" Draco asked as he caught Narcissa as she nearly fell.

"Harry get a chair for her!" Dumbledore called.

Harry rushed over and accio'd a chair that Narcissa promptly fell into with all the grace she could manage. Beaten and bloody, she was still a Malfoy.

"Narcissa!" Professor Snape called, inspecting the wounds on her face. Harry heard an unusual note of concern in the Slytherin head's voice.

Narcissa coughed, taking a moment to compose herself. Draco had his arm around his mother's back, rubbing it in circles.

"Voldemort is at Malfoy Manor," she said, her voice breaking with the dryness of her throat.

"Right now?!" Sirius exclaimed.

Narcissa nodded, her eyes focused through the pain. Harry admired her ability to stay calm and resilient. "He came about an hour ago unannounced. He brought with him a few other Death-Eaters."

"Mother why are you hurt?" Draco asked in fear. "Where's father?"

Narcissa smiled reassuringly at her son but her eyes held pain in them. "Nothing serious, Draco. I just said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and Voldemort was upset with me. He shot a few curses at me but it's nothing compared to what he can do. Your father is fine but he was unable to come with me here. Voldemort needed him. He and the Death-Eaters shut themselves up in the North Tower."

"What about Oliver?" Marcus demanded. "Did you see him? Was he there?"

"A boy, Narcissa," Sirius explained quickly. "A Hogwarts boy. Voldemort kidnapped him right out of this hall."

Narcissa nodded quickly. "Yes, Antonin Dolohov was carrying a boy as they entered."

"Was he all right?" Marcus asked fearfully.

"He was unconscious as far as I could tell."

Marcus growled in frustration. "We need to get him back."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Mr. Flint. We will."

"Then what the fuck are we waiting for?!"

"Language, Mr. Flint," Professor McGonagall snapped.

"We must first form a small team of people with this task," Dumbledore said. "It won't be easy getting Mr. Wood out of Malfoy Manor, not to mention what that may prompt Voldemort to do in revenge."

"But we need to get him," Harry insisted. "We can't just leave him there."

"Yes, you're right," Dumbledore said before turning to Narcissa, who had her cuts heeled by Professor Snape. "You aren't fit to travel."

"Nonsense, I – "

"No, mother," Draco stopped her. "You can't. I'll go instead."

"What? No!" Harry protested, quickly grabbing Draco's arm. "Baby, you can't."

"I'm the only one who knows the house, Harry," Draco insisted. "Without me they'll be running around clueless."

Dumbledore nodded gravely in agreement, as did Sirius, Professor Snape and Charlie.

Harry's face fell. "But… Draco what if you…"

Draco shook his head and held Harry's face in his hands. "I have to do this."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, you can't."

"Why not?" Harry protested loudly.

"Because for all we know, Voldemort is trying to lure you to him," Draco said firmly.

"I'm going!" Harry retorted.

"I'm afraid Draco is right, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"Yeah, Harry," Sirius agreed. "We can't risk you going."

"But that's not fair," Harry said indignantly. "If anyone else can go why can't I go?!"

"I know it's unfair," Sirius sighed as he placed a hand on his godson's shoulder. "But you need to understand that you're the key to all of this, to defeating Voldemort. We cannot risk losing you right now."

Harry's face was twisted with pain and grief but he closed his eyes in defeat.

"Fine," he mumbled.

Draco leaned in to press his nose against Harry's cheek. "We'll be fine," he whispered firmly.

Harry just nodded. He couldn't bear to think of letting Draco leave.

"Who else will join Draco?" Dumbledore asked.

"I will," Sirius said.

"What?!" Harry gasped.

Sirius sighed. "I need to, Harry, don't you see?"

Harry groaned. He knew Sirius was right. Sirius was easily one of the best wizards there and he knew his godfather would not let a group of wizards go without him if he was perfectly able to.

He nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly.

"I'm going," Marcus said immediately.

"I'll go too," Charlie said. Ron looked at his brother worriedly but Charlie touched his shoulder in reassurance.

"Mr. Flint, are you sure it is wise that you go?" Professor McGonagall asked tentatively.

Marcus sent her the mother of all death glares. "I am _going._ Do you think I would stand around here while my boyfriend is being kept captive by that sick monster?"

Dumbledore nodded, knowing that it would be useless to argue with the Slytherin.

"All right, that should be enough," the headmaster concluded. "Sirius, I trust you will take charge?"

Sirius nodded. "We'll leave in the morning."

"Morning?" Marcus protested. "Why can't we leave right now?!"

"We need to rest first," Sirius sighed. "We'll be no use if we're all tired and inattentive."

"I agree," Charlie said, before his eyes softened when he saw the pain in Marcus' eyes. "I know you want to rush to find Oliver right now, but we need to think of the best way to do this. If we're not at our best, we won't stand a chance getting him out of there."

Marcus was silent for a moment before he nodded tensely and walked right out of the hall.

Harry stared after him, feeling a pang of sadness. He turned back to Draco, who was listening as his mother explained where exactly Voldemort was in their huge mansion.

When Harry walked over to them, Draco raised his head and smiled.

Narcissa looked at Harry too, this time with an emotion akin to suspiciousness. Harry realized quickly that he hadn't been introduced to her as Draco's significant other.

"Mother," Draco said quickly, sensing the tension. "This is Harry, my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend?" Narcissa said, though it was more a statement than a question.

Harry nodded and lifted his hand to shake hers. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa let out an amused breath. "Draco, you never mentioned you were dating the Boy-Who-Lived."

"I haven't been able to convey the news to you, mother, for fear of Voldemort intercepting any letters," Draco explained.

"Ah," Narcissa said, her face all too knowing. "I see."

Draco looked at his mother and an unidentifiable look passed between them. Narcissa then looked at Harry closely.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled in return, sensing that this was somewhat of an approval by the Malfoys' standards. He looked at Draco, who was beaming, and knew it was.

"Be careful," Harry told Draco, his eyes clouding with worry.

Draco moved forward and cupped Harry's neck with both his hands. "I will come back to you."

"You better," Harry said, his eyes boring into Draco's. "You need to."

"I would never leave you."

"I would die if you did."

"I promised I would protect you," Draco said. "And this is part of that."

"I know."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too," Harry said, his voice cracking as tears threatened to escape his eyes.

Draco kissed him then, pouring every emotion he had into the gesture. Harry clutched the back of Draco's dress robes, clinging to him and never wanting to let him go.

* * *

Sobs wracked Marcus' body as he sat on the stands of the Quidditch Pitch. He kept thinking of Oliver, his Oliver, unconscious and afraid in the hands of Voldemort. How could he have let this happen?

He hated himself. He hated himself for not being able to protect Oliver. He hated Terrence, who was sitting next to him trying to comfort him, because Terrence had been able to keep Viktor safe. Adrian had kept Daphne safe. Theodore had kept Pansy safe. But Marcus had failed Oliver.

He slammed his head against the wooden pole next to him, groaning in anger.

"Marcus," Terrence exclaimed. "Don't do that!"

"And why not?" Marcus growled.

Terrence sighed. "I know you're worried, but you will find Wood and bring him back."

Marcus laughed bitterly. "I still let Voldemort take him."

"Yes, you did," came a voice.

The Slytherins turned and saw Percy standing at the entrance to the pitch, glowering at them both.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Marcus drawled, eyes narrowed.

"I never knew what Oliver saw in you," Percy retorted. His eyes too were clouded with pain and worry. "I disapproved of the two of you from the beginning. But Oliver seemed to care for you so I tolerated you for his sake. But I expected you to bloody protect him, Flint!"

"Hey, ease up, it wasn't his fault!" Terrence protested, defending his best friend.

"Do you think I don't feel like shit enough already, Weasley?" Marcus shouted. "I hate myself for letting this happen to him. If I could take his place right now I would!"

Percy scoffed. "You don't care for anyone but yourself."

"I love Oliver," Marcus insisted. "He means everything to me."

"Then how could you let this happen?" Percy demanded. Though it was clear now that the redhead was frustrated at both Marcus and himself for not being able to protect one they held so dear.

Marcus sighed, deflating. "I didn't want this to happen. I tried… I tried to protect him…"

Percy looked away, his face twisted with pain. "You should have done more," he whispered, his tone filled with regret and self-loathing.

"I know," Marcus sighed.

* * *

Hermione was sitting on the couch in the common room reading a book when Ron came rushing up to her.

"'Mione!" he called.

"Yes?" Hermione responded, looking up at him curiously.

"I'm sorry," he spluttered. "For everything I said to you. I didn't mean any of it. I was being a right arse."

Hermione looked at him for a while before smiling. "It's all right, Ron. You were just frustrated at me. I understand why."

"You do?"

"Yes. I guess I'm protective of you, as I am with Harry too. If you want me to stop, then I'll work on it…"

"No!"

"What?"

Ron rushed up to her. "I was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. I don't want you to change. And I'm sorry for making you feel that way."

"Why?"

"Because you care about me," he said, as though realizing it for himself. "And I should be grateful, not annoyed. Because I care about you too."

Hermione smiled, eyes brimming with happiness. Even so, she tried to remain composed. "Thank you. For everything. Including saving me today. You saved my life."

Ron shook his head. "I'd be dead right now if it weren't for you, given all the stupid things I get down to."

Hermione laughed. "That may be true, but still. You saved me."

"You're one of my two best friends," Ron shrugged. "You'd do the same for me."

"Yeah," Hermione admitted. "Even when you're being a thick-headed fool."

Ron laughed out loud in return and sat down beside her. "Have you been to the Hospital Wing?"

Hermione nodded. "I just got a check up. There was nothing wrong with me, though. Have you?"

Ron shook his head.

Hermione sighed. "You know I'd like to smack you with this book but I'll refrain."

Ron chuckled.

"You really should get yourself looked at, just in case," Hermione said pointedly. "Remember when Jack didn't go to Madame Pomfrey's last year after he got hit by a bludger? He got a concussion and had to stay in bed for three weeks!"

"All right, all right," Ron laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll go right now."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hurry along, then."

"See you later, 'Mione."

Hermione chuckled. "Later, Ron."

* * *

Harry walked into the Hospital Wing with Draco by his side and was instantly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people hustling around inside.

Madame Pomfrey and all the other nurses were running around attending to students here and there, and all the hospital beds looked to be full. In fact, Professor McGonagall was there transfiguring more hospital beds to accommodate the students who needed them.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry breathed as he and Draco walked down the center of the room.

Harry spotted Ron getting his arm bandaged and went over to him.

"Ron!" he gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, Harry," Ron smiled at his friend. "I'm fine, just a cut."

"Thank Merlin."

Ron looked at his friend with concern. "You okay, mate? You look tired. You should really get some rest."

Harry shook his head. "No, maybe later. I want to check up on everyone. Is Hermione all right?"

Ron nodded immediately. "She's in the dorms."

"And Astoria?"

Ron looked around. "She's somewhere around here with some Slytherins, but she's all right."

"Good," Harry said. "I'm glad you're all right, Ron."

Ron smiled. "'Course I am, mate. I've learned self defense from the best, haven't I?"

Harry rolled his eyes in amusement. "Sure."

"Go to that side," Ron said, gesturing to the back of the wing. "Seamus and a couple of other Gryffindors are there."

Harry nodded and left to seek his housemates. He turned briefly to look for Draco when he saw the blond getting his shoulder treated by one of the nurses.

When Harry reached the back of the wing, he pulled back a curtain and saw a group he recognized all too well. Dean, Neville, Ginny and the twins were gathered around one bed, where Seamus lay. On the other side of the curtain, Jack and Katie and Fred were seated around George's bed.

Harry quickly rushed over to Seamus. As he came closer he saw that Blaise was there, gripping the Irishman's hand. The Slytherin nodded tersely when he saw Harry.

"You all right, Shay?" Harry asked worriedly.

Seamus nodded drowsily. "M'head hurts, but m'all right, Harry. Thanks for checking up on me."

Harry nodded in relief as Blaise shushed Seamus quietly.

"Go to sleep, gorgeous, you need to rest," Harry heard the Slytherin whisper.

"Are _you_ all right, Harry?" Neville asked him.

"Yes, thanks, Neville," Harry reassured them all.

Dean sighed, looking at his best friend lying on the bed. "Merlin I hope this bloody war ends soon, and ends right."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Couldn't agree more with you, mate."

* * *

After checking up on the rest of his housemates, who were all recovering well much to his relief, especially Fred and George who instantly started teasing Harry good-naturedly about Draco, Harry ventured to the center of the wing to look for said Slytherin. He saw the blond with some other Slytherins and walked up to him nervously, not wanting to intrude.

"Harry!" Daphne said when she laid eyes on him. She quickly came rushing over to embrace him. "Thank Merlin you're all right."

Harry smiled at her sincerity. "I'm glad you're okay, too, Daphne."

Draco walked up to them. "Trying to steal my man, Greengrass?"

Daphne laughed. "I value my life, Draco. I wouldn't want you to rip me to pieces."

Draco looked vaguely unimpressed. He wrapped a protective arm around Harry before leading him to the other Slytherins who were gathered in a circle. Harry recognized Adrian, Astoria, Theodore, Terrence and Pansy.

Pansy looked up when she saw him. "Harry," she said. "Thank you."

"For what?" Harry asked, briefly confused.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Don't play the fool, it doesn't become you. You know what for."

And then Harry remembered. He'd saved her from the Cruciatus curse. Theodore looked at him with a grateful nod, and Harry was reminded of how much the Slytherins prided their self-preservation. Many of them would rather die than admit that they had needed help or had received it.

"You're welcome," he said. Pansy nodded at him and Harry thought vaguely that he had finally earned some kind of respect from the Slytherins.

"Where's Blaise?" Daphne asked, looking around.

"With Seamus," Harry responded.

The Slytherins chuckled.

"Never thought I'd see Blaise love-struck," Pansy mused. Then she looked pointedly at Draco. "You either."

Draco looked at her darkly. "Well, now you know that you rarely think correctly, Pansy."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Touchy, touchy."

"Wait, where's Marcus?" Adrian asked.

Terrence instantly looked down at his feet, biting his lip with concern. "Still out on the Quidditch Pitch. I told him to come inside. I mean, he needs to get ready to leave tomorrow to find Wood but he's all torn, man."

Adrian sighed. "I don't know what he sees in Wood that would make him this upset."

"He loves him," Theodore said, shrugging.

"They were mortal enemies," Adrian countered. "It can't mean that much, whatever they've got going on."

"I thought you were all right with them," Daphne asked, brow furrowed in disapproval.

Adrian shrugged. "Sure, but it's not like I think they're serious or that they're going to last."

Daphne frowned at him. "That's an awful thing to say."

"She's right, Pucey," Pansy drawled. "They love each other. Are you blind?"

Adrian sighed. "Look, I never meant anything bad by it, all right? I'm just saying I don't think Wood's the right one for Marcus, that's all. They're fucking Quidditch rivals."

Daphne sighed at her date, but softened a little when Adrian took her hand as a plea for forgiveness. She smiled softly at him.

"I didn't mean it as a bad thing," Adrian assured her. "Just my opinion."

Daphne nodded. "Fair enough."

Just then, a few Durmstrang students came into the infirmary. Viktor Krum walked towards them, instantly looking for Terrence.

"Aw," Pansy cooed. "Look, Terry, lover boy's looking for you."

Terrence tried to stave off a blush.

"You are all right?" Viktor asked the Slytherin, taking his hand.

"Yes, I am. Are you?"

Viktor didn't answer, instead gathering Terrence into an embrace.

"Oh they are so sweet!" Daphne whispered with excitement.

Draco rolled his eyes and turned Harry around to walk away from his friends.

"Sorry," he said. "They're intoxicating at times."

"It's all right," Harry said, shrugging. "My friends can be the same way. Do you think Pucey's right about Oliver and Marcus?"

Draco shook his head. "Marcus loves Wood too much and vice versa. Adrian's just got it in him that Quidditch rivalries don't make for the best couples, I suppose."

Harry nodded in agreement. Then his eyes clouded over with worry as he was reminded of what the morning would bring.

"Please be safe, baby," he said desperately, cupping Draco's soft cheek with his hand.

Draco looked so perfect. His skin was pale and unblemished, his eyes glistening and his hair slightly tousled from the fight but still immaculately placed. He was so beautiful. And to think that he would be letting Draco go, albeit with Sirius, whom he trusted with his life… he was scared.

"I will," Draco promised, holding Harry's hands to his heart. "And remember, Sirius has an alertal."

"Alertal?" Harry asked.

"It's this device that members of the Ministry use," Draco explained. "It looks like a huge semi-circle. It'll be set up in the Great Hall, so you'll be able to see it."

"What does it do?"

"Well, if one of us is hurt on the trip to the Manor, the alertal will start blinking the color corresponding to the person who's hurt or in trouble."

"So I'll be able to know if you're all right?" Harry asked, his heart pounding.

"Yes," Draco said firmly.

Harry nearly cried out with relief. It was little consolation, but he was thankful that he'd at least be able to know how Draco was doing.

"And we'll all have trackers on us as well," Draco said. "So you'll know where we are in the manor at all times."

Harry nodded. He felt slightly better now, but his heart was still racing with fear.

 _Please, Merlin, let him be safe,_ he thought.

* * *

The sound of a clock chiming woke Oliver up. His eyes opened blearily as if he was waking from a year's worth of sleep.

It took him a moment to realize that he was sitting on a chair, his hands and legs bound tightly. It took him another moment to see that he was sitting at the head of a long table that was otherwise empty. He struggled in his bonds, trying desperately to knock the chair over, but it seemed that the chair legs had been enchanted to stay firmly on the ground.

His heart started pounding with fear. Where the hell was he? The last thing he could remember was being apparated out of the Great Hall. It was all black after that.

Oliver shivered with fear.

 _Oh, God, please,_ Oliver thought. _Someone save me._

He'd never had any personal dealings with Voldemort. Harry had, as had Ron and Hermione and some other Gryffindors, but Oliver's family had no ties to the Lord whatsoever. He didn't know what Voldemort was capable of. And because of that a chill ran up his spine. What was going to happen to him?

And then Oliver remembered Marcus and the last look they'd shared before he was taken. He wished desperately for Marcus to be there with him at that moment, though he would never wish for his lover to be in his position. He just missed Marcus' touch, the way he felt completely and utterly safe in his embrace, like no one could touch him.

Now he was vulnerable, alone and afraid.

Oliver perked up when he heard noises coming from the other room. It seemed like a huge house. The table in front of him was covered in expensive looking tablecloth, and the chairs were made of pristinely engraved wood.

"Go check on the boy!" Oliver heard someone say.

Oliver's heart froze when he heard footsteps approaching.

"Ah," a voice said.

Oliver saw a figure at the door, looking at him with dark amusement in his gaze. He had shaggy black hair, coming down in greasy strands to his eyes, and wore the typical Death-Eater get-up but without the cloak.

"Who are you?" Oliver asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

The Death-Eater walked towards him slowly but menacingly.

"My name is Antonin Dolohov," he sneered.

Oliver recognized the name. It had been on many Wanted lists around Hogsmeade. He was one of the most notorious Death-Eaters out there.

Dolohov's lips curled in a malicious smile as he came to stand in front of Oliver.

"Voldemort was right," he chuckled. "You are a pretty thing."

Oliver couldn't help it as he trembled in fright.

"Get away from me!"

Dolohov laughed, the sound chilling Oliver's spine to ice.

"You're in no place to demand things of me, boy."


	14. Chapter 14

Warning: this chapter's a little more intense than usual. When I read it back (reminder: I wrote this chapter originally like, 3 years ago), I edited some stuff out/adjusted some things. Many of you may not think it's too intense (I've definitely read more intense things here) but I just wanted to be cautious. I didn't originally write this story to post it anywhere, so while I wrote it three years ago I didn't really filter myself or anything because I was just writing for me. But anyway, hope you enjoy it!

 **Chapter 14:**

The Great Hall was once again filled with students, but this time they were all seated rigidly, clearly anxious and afraid. The wall that had been damaged in the battle, which was now being dubbed the 'Battle of the Hall,' had been repaired, but the air was still and heavy, as though the room was still haunted by the events that had transpired.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table next to Draco, who he was holding tightly in his embrace. In less than an hour, his lover would leave to the Manor with Sirius, Charlie and Marcus, and with every passing second, Harry was getting more terrified of letting him leave.

Dumbledore was standing at the front of the hall. He had explained to the students what the mission entailed, and was now explaining the function of the alertal and the tracker.

"The alertal is this dome-shaped device here," Dumbledore said, pointing to said device that had been installed on the wall at the back of the hall. It was a milky white color, as though the inside of it was swirling with clouds. "It will be installed here for the whole mission, so every student who wishes to know of Sirius, Charlie, Marcus or Draco's whereabouts can know how they are doing."

"How does it work?" Hermione asked from the Gryffindor table.

"A color has been assigned to each person. Sirius' color is gold, Charlie's is red, Marcus' is green and Draco's is silver."

 _Silver like his eyes,_ Harry mused fondly. He wouldn't be seeing them for a while.

"And so, if any of them are in danger or hurt, the alertal will start blinking that person's color. The faster it is blinking, the more danger or injury that person is suffering," Dumbledore continued. "The alertal is also a map of Malfoy Manor. When the four depart, it will show us a bird's eye view of the landscape, and we will be able to see where each person is within the grounds."

Many of the students, particularly those close to the four who were about to leave, seemed to calm down a little, knowing that they would not be entirely in the dark.

Harry, however, still worried for Draco's safety. Not only did Draco hold the responsibility for guiding the group, he also had to make sure he wasn't detected by any of the Death-Eaters himself, as it would completely blow his cover as a spy.

"You may say your goodbyes, now," Dumbledore finished gravely. "They will apparate to a secluded portion of the Malfoy Manor gardens soon."

* * *

When Dumbledore had finished talking, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George instantly launched themselves at Charlie.

"Relax, you guys," Charlie said reassuringly. "It'll be okay."

"But you could get seriously hurt," Ron retorted, his face twisted with worry.

Charlie nodded seriously. "I know. But you've got to believe that we'll all be all right."

"Charlie, please be safe," Ginny exclaimed, eyes brimming with tears. Charlie gave his sister a quick kiss on the cheek.

Fred and George were glaring at Charlie.

"You've got to be okay…"

"…you can't not be okay…"

"…that's not even an option…"

"…so don't even consider…"

"…coming back here _not_ okay…"

"…okay?"

Charlie chuckled and hugged his two brothers tightly. "Okay, you freaks."

The sound of someone clearing their throat softly made the Weasleys look up. Cedric was standing there sheepishly, though his eyes were steady as always.

"Hey," Charlie said, walking over to give the Hufflepuff a soft hug.

Cedric took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He never got flustered.

"Please be okay," was all he could whisper, his eyes narrowed with seriousness.

Charlie smiled at him. "Of course, cutie."

"Cutie?" Cedric laughed.

"Well, I told you you were cute," Charlie said. "When I get back, I'm taking you out to dinner, by the way."

Cedric blushed in spite of himself. He nodded, liking the way Charlie said ' _when_ I get back.'

"I'm looking forward to it," Cedric said, smiling sadly.

"Hey, don't look all sad," Charlie said, cupping the Hufflepuff's cheek.

"I'm just worried," he confessed.

Charlie leaned in and kissed Cedric chastely on the lips. The Hufflepuff cherished the warmth of the redhead's touch.

"Why would I let anything happen to me when I've got our dinner to look forward to?" Charlie asked fondly.

Cedric buried his face in Charlie's neck and Charlie hugged back tightly.

* * *

"Just be…careful, all right?" Adrian said, sighing in concern. Despite his masochistic appearance, he did hold all his close friends dear.

Marcus nodded. "I will be."

Daphne wrapped her arms around him, trying to control the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Cool it, Greengrass," Marcus said, though his tone was gentle. "I'll be fine."

Daphne nodded, sniffling. "Okay. I'm just so worried."

"I know."

Terrence clapped Marcus on the back. "All right, mate?"

"I've got to get him back," Marcus sighed, eyes narrowing with worry.

"Protect yourself first, though," Adrian said, eyes narrowed.

"You'll get him back," Terrence said firmly. Viktor Krum stood next to him, holding Terrence's hand. The Bulgarian gave Marcus a firm embrace.

"Stay safe," he said.

"Thanks, guys."

* * *

Harry was hugging Sirius as tightly as he could.

"I can't lose you again, Siri," he whispered, voice strained.

"You won't, Prongsie," the animagus promised.

"Have you told Remus you're leaving?" Harry asked.

Sirius nodded. "He and Tonks know. They're worried as hell, as you can imagine."

"We all are."

Sirius laughed. "Jeez, all of you need to lighten up a little bit. It's like the Dark Ages here."

"But it's dangerous!" Harry exclaimed angrily. "You could get seriously hurt, you could even…"

"Don't think about that," Sirius said, shrugging. "Just think of our goal: to get Oliver back. Don't think of the dangers, think of why we're doing this. Okay?"

Harry nodded, calmed by his godfather's words. Nevertheless, he almost couldn't bear the fact that Sirius would be in danger. He couldn't lose the man who he considered to be his father, not after he'd lost him once before.

And then there was Draco. He was putting the two people he cared most about, apart from Ron and Hermione and Remus, into the path of Voldemort.

"Please stay safe," Harry whispered when he and Draco were facing each other, hands intertwined.

"I will, love," Draco said, eyes glowing with emotion. "I will come back to you."

"You need to."

"I will."

"I know we haven't been together for so long, but I…" Harry stammered to find the right words to convey his love for the blond.

"I know."

"I don't even know how to say it, I just…"

"It's all right. I know."

And with that, Harry kissed him, his tongue delving into Draco's mouth as if he was trying to soak up all the warmth the Slytherin had to offer him. Draco kissed back eagerly, running his hands through Harry's hair, pulling him closer.

Once they'd broken apart, Dumbledore was announcing their departure.

"I love you," Harry whispered, eyes brimming with tears he refused to cry, as Draco pulled away from him to take position with the others.

"I love you too," Draco said.

And within seconds, Draco, Marcus, Sirius and Charlie had disappeared in four poofs of smoke.

* * *

Oliver was awoken again when he heard the chair beside him creak as it was pulled back from under the table. Antonin Dolohov sat down on it and looked at Oliver with amusement.

"Hello, there," he sneered.

"Go away," Oliver snapped.

"Touchy, are we?" Dolohov chuckled.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, Voldemort's assigned me to watch over you and to keep you… entertained," he said slyly.

Oliver gulped, trying to calm himself down. In reality, all he wanted to do was yell and scream for help, but he knew that would be of little use.

"Where am I?" Oliver asked instead.

"That, I'm afraid, is classified," Dolohov said almost gleefully. "I can't go around telling people where the Dark Lord's hide-outs are, can I?"

Oliver growled.

"So, what's your name?" Dolohov said, looking at Oliver in a way that made the scot's spine tingle.

"Why do you want to know?"

Dolohov shrugged. "Voldemort's only assignment for me was to watch over you. I might as well get to know more about the boy my lord has captured."

"Shut up," Oliver spat.

"Why won't you just tell me your name?" Dolohov asked, moving his face closer to Oliver's.

"No," Oliver snarled. "Fuck you."

Dolohov sighed, though his eyes were darkly amused. "You must be a Gryffindor."

Oliver then began struggling restlessly in his bonds.

"Yeah, definitely a Gryffindor," Dolohov confirmed.

"Just let me go!" Oliver yelled. "What do you want with me?"

"I don't know what the Dark Lord wants from you," Dolohov said. "But my best guess is he wants you for his own pleasure."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Oliver said, not able to keep the stutter out of his voice.

"To do with as he likes," Dolohov clarified with a menacing smile.

Oliver groaned in frustration.

"As for what I want with you," Dolohov drawled, leaning forward. "Well, the Lord said I could do anything I wanted with you too."

Oliver didn't flinch under the Death-Eater's gaze.

"Fuck you," he said, his voice steely.

"Oh, that I'd _love_ to do," Dolohov chuckled, eyeing Oliver hungrily.

Oliver's eyes widened in realization. "No! You're sick! Get away from me!"

Dolohov just chuckled as he moved forward. His fingers trailed down the buttons of Oliver's dress shirt.

"Stop it… Please, just stop," Oliver's voice was getting desperate with fear.

Oliver struggled uselessly against his bonds as Dolohov started removing the buttons of his shirt one by one until all of them had been undone.

"You must be a Quidditch player, too," Dolohov said wickedly, eyeing Oliver's abdomen.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Oliver screamed. "Please, just leave me alone…"

"Now why would I do that?" Dolohov grinned evilly.

A fearful sob escaped Oliver's mouth as the Death-Eater's hands trailed down his arms.

* * *

Draco landed in the middle of a huge patch of grass. He recognized it immediately as the gardens to the north of Malfoy Manor. He waited a few seconds and Charlie, Sirius and Marcus appeared around him.

"It's that way," Draco whispered, pointing. "And for Merlin's sake, be as quiet as possible."

"Wait," Sirius said. "Here, all of you take one of these."

He handed out a flat, triangle-shaped segment of steel to each of them. It was blue on one side and silver on the other.

"What are these?" Charlie asked.

"Non-reversable portkeys," Sirius explained. "The Ministry uses them. Basically, if you see a Death-Eater, all you need to do is slap the blue side of it onto his or her back. It'll send them to Antarctica."

"Antarctica?" Marcus asked.

"The south pole," Draco said quickly.

"Yes," Sirius continued. "And the great thing about it is that it doesn't work both ways."

"Meaning?" Charlie wondered.

"Meaning that once they get transported there, the portkey won't be able to bring them back," Sirius finished.

Draco stared at the little triangle in wonder. "That's genius."

Sirius chuckled softly. "That it is."

He then produced a larger flat piece of steel from his pocket. This one was a bright red.

"When we get Oliver, all of you hold on to me," Sirius explained. "This here is a portkey that will take us all back to the Great Hall right away. All of you with me?"

They nodded.

"All right, Draco, lead the way, then."

Draco nodded and the four of them jogged lightly through paths and more paths in the maze of gardens surrounding the Manor. They were careful to take cover under bushes and shrubbery, wary of anyone who could be looking out onto the gardens from one of the balconies of the manor.

"Jeez, how bloody big is your house, Draco?" Marcus whispered in frustration.

"We're almost there," Draco said. "I'm taking you guys through the back gate."

A few minutes later, they came upon a small black door on one of the towers of the huge castle-like mansion. Draco stood in front of it, eyeing it with bated breath.

"Well?" Sirius asked.

"When I open this door, you need to be silent," Draco said seriously. "And by silent, I mean _dead silent._ "

Sirius, Charlie and Marcus nodded.

"It might be dark," Draco said. "But just follow me."

With that, the blond Slytherin whispered _Silver dragon_ at the doorknob.

"It only responds to a Malfoy's voice," Draco explained.

The door instantly clicked open and Draco held the doorknob.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor," he whispered as he opened the door into darkness.

* * *

"There!" Ron exclaimed. "They're in! They've gotten in the Manor!"

"Thank Merlin," Hermione whispered, her eyes glued to the alertal.

Many students had decided to stay in the Great Hall and monitor the mission, which they could do thanks to the alertal, which now showed a foorplan of the Malfoy Manor. There were 4 dots that represented Draco, Marcus, Sirius and Charlie respectively. The four dots had just entered the frame, meaning that they were now in the house.

Harry sat with Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Dean, Neville, the Weasley twins, Percy and Cedric, all eyes glued to the alertal.

"You doing okay, mate?" Ron asked worriedly.

Harry nodded, though his breaths were heavy. Draco was safe, for now. He was all right.

"I just hate myself for not being there with them though," Harry said with a note of bitterness. "I should have gone with them."

Hermione smiled affectionately at the raven-haired boy.

"I know it's hard, Harry, but you know it wouldn't be wise if you went with them," she said softly. "It's tough but when you look at the bigger picture, it was the right decision they made. But it'll be all right, Harry, you'll see."

Harry smiled at his two friends, feeling a sudden burst of love for them. They were always there for him through thick or thin. He looked down at the locket they had given him, which he was wearing, smiling when he thought of the pictures within it.

"Thank you," he said to them.

"For what?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "For being here, for everything."

"Aw, mate, come on," Ron said, smiling. "Of course we're here for you. What are best mates for?"

"We love you, Harry," Hermione said fondly. "We'll stick with you no matter what. You know that."

"I know," Harry smiled. "I'd do the same for you."

"We know."

Just then, Harry noticed a group of Slytherins walk over and sit next on the same table as them. It was the one closest to the alertal.

"Hey, Daphne," Harry said, seeing the blond among the group.

"Oh, Harry!" she said, rushing over. "I can't imagine how you must be feeling with Draco out there. You holding up all right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay for now. How are the Slytherins?"

Before Daphne could say anything, Adrian looked up at the screen and rolled his eyes in disdain.

"I can't believe Marcus is risking his bloody life for Wood," he muttered.

Daphne sighed. "Well, you can see for yourself, Harry."

"For Merlin's sake," Blaise drawled, his eyes cold. "He's out there in potential danger and all you can complain about is that?"

Adrian glared at Blaise but Blaise looked at him unfazed.

"If something bad happens to Marcus out there, it'll be Wood's fault," he grumbled.

"Don't you dare say that," Percy snapped immediately.

"What are you going to do about it, Weasel?" Adrian mocked.

"Adrian!" Daphne exclaimed. "Stop it!"

Adrian rolled his eyes. "They've got something up their arses, the Gryffindors."

Cedric cleared his throat pointedly. "If you haven't noticed, four people are risking their lives out there right now, and you have the gall to think that our concern is unnecessary?"

"I'm just saying that Marcus shouldn't be risking his life just for a boy he's probably not even going to be with for so much longer," Adrian said.

"Shut up," Harry said suddenly, eyes blazing with anger. "Don't you dare imply that Oliver doesn't deserve Marcus' help. It was Marcus' own decision, so you can just shut up and deal with it. We don't need to hear your complaints."

The table was silent for a couple of moments after Harry's sharp words.

"He's right," Terrence said quietly. "Whatever you think of their relationship, it was Marcus' decision and you've got to respect that, Ade."

Adrian rolled his eyes again and then held his head in his hands. "If anything happens to Marcus, I'll slay Wood."

"And then I'll slay you," Percy retorted.

"So will I," Cedric muttered, turning away in annoyance.

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "Just shut it, Pucey."

"You Gryffindors are getting on my last nerve today," Adrian growled.

Daphne groaned. "Adrian, please stop this. They're just worried."

"Yeah, Potter's worried about Draco," Adrian rolled his eyes. "Draco's out there because of Potter, too. Another Gryffindor/Slytherin couple that won't last anoth – "

Harry slammed his hands down on the table and raised his wand to Adrian. Gasps arouse around the hall but Harry was glaring at the older Slytherin.

"One more word and I will hex you," Harry snapped.

"I dare you to, Potter," Adrian retorted confidently.

Hermione quickly turned to Adrian in attempt to resolve the problem. "Pucey, I know you're worried about Marcus and Draco. But just because you are doesn't mean you need to blame us Gryffindors. It's not Harry or Oliver's faults that Draco and Marcus are out there."

"Yeah, calm down, Ade," Theodore said, frowning.

"I'll calm down when I want to," Adrian snapped back. "I'm telling you that Gryffindor/Slytherin couples just amount to no good."

Ron looked down at his hands. Harry remembered his crumbling relationship with Astoria and shot his friend a sympathetic glance.

"Shut up or I'll be hexing you too, Pucey," Blaise said, his eyes steely.

"Yeah, that's just cause you're banging a Gryffindor too," Adrian bit back.

"Adrian!" Daphne shrieked. "What in the world are you planning to achieve by making everyone feel horribly?"

"I'm just fucking frustrated all right?" Adrian shouted. "Two Slytherins are out there risking their fucking _lives_ because they think they're in love with two Gryffindors! If they fucking _die,_ it will be for bloody _Gryffindors._ "

Daphne's eyes clouded with hurt at Adrian's violent tone.

"You're terrible," she said softly, looking away. Before Adrian could say anything, she cleared her throat quietly and walked out of the hall.

Adrian sighed in frustration, watching Daphne's retreating back.

"I would die for Draco," Harry said then, shocking the people at the table, who all looked at him in surprise. He shrugged. "It's true. I love him and I would risk my life to keep him safe. As I would do for Ron, or for Sirius, or for 'Mione, or for any of my friends. And if you doubt that, Pucey, then that's your problem."

With that, Harry and the Gryffindors turned away from the glowering Adrian Pucey, who stood there, breathing heavily for a few moments before stalking out of the hall.

Hermione sighed. "He's just so worried."

Harry nodded in understanding. He knew that Adrian's hostility had merely stemmed from him being so terrified of losing Marcus or Draco. His frustration had manifested in wrongful accusations, but Harry knew from experience that feeling helpless to aid the people you cared about often messed with your emotions. It was the same when Voldemort attacked at the Quidditch Pitch, causing Harry to lash out at Draco. He hadn't meant to, but he had anyway.

"I just hope he snaps out of it soon," Harry said quietly.

"Don't worry about him, Harry. Just focus on the alertal."

Harry nodded.

* * *

Draco, Marcus, Charlie and Sirius had reached the foot of the North Tower now, where Narcissa had said that Voldemort was staying.

This part of the mansion was brightly lit, much to the four men's chagrin. They had little cover, but Draco knew places to hide in every corridor.

"Head up that stairs," Draco whispered, gesturing to a winding staircase in the corner of the room they were in.

Sirius nodded and led the way, followed by Draco and Marcus, with Charlie bringing up the rear.

A sharp yelp stopped the four in their tracks. Before Draco knew what was happening, Sirius shoved him up the staircase into hiding. He knew he had to protect Draco's identity above all the others'.

When Sirius had turned back, he saw Marcus looking ahead fearfully. Clutched in the grasp of a Death-Eater Sirius knew by picture and by reputation, was Charlie.

"Let him go, Rosier," Sirius hissed, pointing his wand right at the Death-Eater.

Charlie tried to say something, but it was clear that he had been put under a silencing charm.

"Sirius Black," Evan Rosier smirked. "I should have known you would come here after we took that boy. One more move forward and this boy will be dead."

Sirius glanced quickly at Charlie, who nodded in return. In one swift move, one they'd practice in the Ministry headquarters, Charlie kicked Rosier and launched himself forward, while Sirius hexed the Death-Eater. Marcus counter-cursed the silencing charm on Charlie.

But just as Sirius moved to knock Rosier's wand out of his grip, the Death-Eater sprung up and knocked Sirius out with a punch. He then grabbed at his wand and aimed straight at Charlie's chest.

"Crucio!" he screamed.

Charlie began convulsing. His hands flew up to his mouth and his eyes tried to communicate something to Marcus as he fought the pain.

Marcus understood. "Silencio!" he said at the redhead.

Instantly, Charlie went down in a heap, his mouth opening in what would have been a shrieking howl.

* * *

"It's blinking red! And gold, too!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What? Who's red and who's gold?" Pansy yelled.

"Bloody hell, that's Charlie and Sirius!" Ron cried in fear. "Oh Merlin, that's Charlie, that's Charlie!"

"No!" Ginny screeched in horror.

The alertal was slowly blinking a gold color, which meant that Sirius was hurt but not gravely so. However, the alertal was blinking red very quickly, causing the whole hall to fall silent in fear.

Fred and George stared at the screen in shock, unable to form words.

Every feature on Cedric's face was furrowed in pain.

"No," he whispered in disbelief. "No…"

Harry's mouth hung open, breaths coming raggedly.

"Please, please be all right," he muttered like a mantra to himself.

* * *

"Petrificus totalus!" Marcus cried.

Rosier went to ground like a stone. Marcus quickly ran over to Sirius.

"Enervate," he said.

Sirius quickly sprang to life. Draco had now come down from where he was hiding in the staircase and rushed to Charlie, who was panting heavily.

"Quick, your portkey," Sirius said to Marcus.

Marcus nodded and slapped his portkey down on Rosier's forehead. The Death-Eater disappeared in a swirl of light.

At the sound of footsteps, Draco stood up and gestured urgently for them to follow him. Charlie was able to stand now, though his breaths were labored.

* * *

"Where are they going?" Daphne asked. She'd returned a few moments earlier with Adrian in tow.

"They're heading up the staircase now," Hermione said, studying the floor plan carefully.

"Thank Merlin, the blinks have stopped," Ron sighed, sagging in relief.

Harry bit his lip. It was all too nerve-wracking. He prayed that the alertal would never blink silver.

* * *

As the four wizards approached the top of the staircase, they froze when they saw the unmistakable figure of a Death-Eater looking down at them, face covered by the shadow of his hood.

"Shit," Charlie whispered.

Sirius had his wand pointed forward first. "Step away," he growled.

The Death-Eater shook his head slowly.

Draco frowned, then his features relaxed.

"Don't worry," he said, continuing to walk towards the Death-Eater.

"What?" Sirius hissed.

But when they moved closer, the Death-Eater removed his hood. It was Lucius Malfoy.

"Don't you fucking scare me like that again," Sirius snapped at the man.

"I was going for subtlety," Lucius drawled. "I take it you are looking for the boy?"

"Where is he?" Marcus asked.

"Take that stairs, then it's the third door on the right," Lucius said, pointing down one of the corridors. "He has company, though."

"Who?" Charlie asked.

"Antonin Dolohov was assigned to watch him," Lucius said. "Though I doubt watching is all he's doing."

"What do you mean?" Marcus snapped worriedly.

"Shhh!" Sirius said. "We'll get him."

"Where will you go, father?" Draco asked.

"To Voldemort," Lucius said, putting his hood back on. "I will try my best to see him occupied, but you must hurry."

Draco nodded. "Be safe, father."

Lucius nodded curtly before he ushered Draco along. When the four looked back, Lucius had already disappeared down the other corridor.

* * *

"Get away from me!" Oliver yelled. Though he tried to sound strong, he knew his every word was dripping with fear and desperation.

"For the last time, you are in no position to ask me to do anything," Dolohov said in a calm, knowing voice that had Oliver's heart pounding with fear and disgust.

Dolohov's hands were now exploring Oliver's trembling chest, fingers grazing over his taut abdomen.

"Please, please stop," Oliver cried.

 _Marcus,_ he screamed in his mind, _Marcus I'm so sorry. I love you._

Dolohov brought his face down so that it was inches away from Oliver's.

"So, are you going to tell me your name?"

"No," Oliver spat.

"Fine," Dolohov shrugged. "I wasn't that curious."

* * *

Draco led the way up the staircase that Lucius had directed them to, recognizing it to be the staircase to the _en suite_ rooms that the Malfoys provided for esteemed guests.

Just as Draco, Charlie, Sirius and Marcus reached the top of the staircase and were about to head down the hallway, an ear-splitting scream ripped through the air, causing them all to freeze.

Marcus' heart stopped. He knew that voice.

"Oliver!"

* * *

"Why have they stopped?" Dean asked.

The four dots representing the four wizards on the mission were moving steadily up what looked to be a staircase but had suddenly frozen in place.

"What's going on?" Daphne shrieked.

Harry held his breath.

* * *

"Oliver!" Marcus called desperately, looking around him wildly. "Oh Merlin that's him. Draco which bloody door is it?!"

"Here!" Draco said, rushing down to the third door in the corridor.

"Wait," Sirius said. He took out his wand and muttered the silencing spell around the room. "Okay, now."

Cedric brandished his wand to cast an _Alohomora_ on the door but Sirius decided for the more practical approach and kicked the door open.

The four wizards rushed into the room and were greeted with the sight of Oliver, tied to a chair half-naked, with Antonin Dolohov sucking his neck.

"I'm going to fucking _kill_ you!" Marcus screamed with rage as he ran towards the Death-Eater.

"Marcus!" Oliver gasped.

"Sectumsempra!" Marcus shouted at Dolohov. The Death-Eater had no time to react before he was thrown to the ground, bleeding profusely.

Draco and Sirius rushed to unbind Oliver.

Marcus ran over to Dolohov's body and punched him with his bare fists, unable to control his anger.

"Marcus, stop!" Draco hissed.

Marcus didn't listen.

Oliver rushed towards him. "Baby, please. Stop. Let's just get out of here."

Marcus instantly froze at Oliver's words. He turned to his lover and cupped his cheek, touching his face and his shoulders, making sure he was okay. Oliver, meanwhile, was nearly sobbing in relief.

Sirius rushed over to Dolohov and slapped the portkey on him. The Death-Eater instantly disappeared.

"Wh – " Oliver began in confusion before Sirius interrupted him.

"Later," he panted. "Let's just go."

Before Sirius could reach into his pocket to retrieve the red portkey, though, the door at the back of the room burst open and two Death-Eaters came rushing in.

One of them hexed Sirius, sending the animagus crashing into the nearest wall, before he could react.

"Oh, shit," Terrence yelled.

"Oh my God, oh my _God_!"

Harry held on to the table to stop himself from fainting.

The air was thick with tension. Everyone in the hall was staring fearfully at the alertal.

It was blinking all four colors. Gold, red, green and silver.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

"What the hell is going on?" Harry gasped, almost to himself. He clutched the side of the table, afraid to let go in fear that he would tumble to the ground.

Beside him, Hermione bit her lip, trying to steady her breaths while Ron was stricken with worry.

"Oh Merlin," Ginny was weeping.

"This can't be happening right now," Daphne whimpered.

The whole hall was filled with cries and sobs of agony and even the professors couldn't calm the students for they were hardly calm themselves.

* * *

When Sirius collapsed to the ground, Draco immediately ran for him.

"Stupefy!" Marcus screamed at one of the two intruding Death-Eaters. His spell was deflected by a shielding charm as he dodged out of the way of a biting Fiendfyre courtesy of the other Death-Eater.

On the other end of the room, before Draco had reached Sirius, he was hexed from behind and fell to the ground in an awkward heap.

"Draco!" Charlie yelled.

His attention was pulled away from the blond as he engaged in battle with one of the Death-Eaters while Marcus fought with the other, trying their best to rival two of the most seasoned wizards in Voldemort's ranks.

Meanwhile, Oliver, who Marcus had shoved behind him, was looking around for his wand. He had been parted with it ever since he woke up in the mansion. And there was no way he could help Charlie or Marcus without it.

A yelp from Charlie got Oliver's attention. The redhead was grappling with the Death-Eater. Both their wands had been casted away by the other and they were now resorting to hand to hand combat.

That Oliver could definitely join in on.

Despite Marcus' scream of protest, Oliver launched himself on the Death-Eater holding Charlie, landing a sharp punch on his face.

"Stupefy!" the other Death-Eater called, causing Marcus to freeze in response to the spell.

"Marcus!" Oliver screamed.

Oliver let go of Charlie's Death-Eater and ran to the Death-Eater responsible for hurting his lover. In his anger, he didn't care whether or not he had a wand.

The Death-Eater wasn't caught by surprise though, and hurled a spell that sent the scot blasting into the nearest wall.

At that moment, Sirius woke from where he'd been slammed onto the wall. He reacted quickly, wasting no time in reversing the hexes on Draco and Marcus. He had to round everybody up with him if he wanted the portkey to take them all back.

"Draco, get up!" Sirius yelled.

The blond made to get up but then hissed in pain. "I can't. I think I broke something."

"Shit," Sirius muttered, running over to him. He quickly took the portkey out of Draco's pocket and threw it to Marcus, who looked anxious to get rid of the Death-Eaters.

Marcus hexed one Death-Eater and portkeyed him away before he ran to save Charlie from the Death-Eater who had a hold around his neck. Charlie gestured to his pocket and Marcus took the redhead's portkey out and slapped it on the Death-Eater's back, sending him away in a cloud of smoke.

"Bloody hell," the Slytherin said, sagging in relief.

"Where's Oliver?" Draco called.

Marcus instantly turned around. Seeing Oliver sprawled out on the floor next to the wall, he ran towards him and cupped his face.

"Ollie?" Marcus said. "Baby, the Death-Eaters are gone, you're okay. We're going home now, okay?"

Oliver nodded weakly, though his eyes were bright.

Marcus heaved his lover off the ground and took him to where Sirius was gathered with Draco and Charlie.

Just then, another figure appeared at the door. Oliver looked up in alarm, expecting another Death-Eater.

To his relief, it was Lucius Malfoy, looking as ruffled as he had ever seen him.

"Father, what are you doing here?" Draco asked.

Lucius raised his wand and pointed it to Oliver.

The five of them looked at him in alarm.

"Father, what are you – "

"Wait!" Oliver gasped. "That's mine."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "I'm not walking there, boy."

"Accio," Oliver said and his wand came rushing to meet his fingertips once more. "Thank you."

Lucius nodded tersely and looked over at his son, frowning.

"I'm fine, father," Draco said confidently.

"Leave now," Lucius said firmly before he spun on his heel and exited the room.

"Hurry up, then," Draco snapped at Sirius, his teeth gritting at the pain in his foot.

Sirius took out his red portkey and all five of them placed a hand on it. Within seconds, they were swirling out of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

"This is too much for me to handle," Daphne said softly, her head resting on the table, staring fearfully at the alertal.

Harry placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though his insides were clenching in panic.

And all of a sudden, the alertal stopped blinking.

"What's going on now?" Ron yelled in exasperation.

And then the four dots representing Sirius, Charlie, Marcus and Draco on the screen… disappeared.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Adrian screamed.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione cried.

The headmaster looked at the screen, his eyes narrowed with concentration.

"What does it mean?!" Harry demanded.

 _Sirius… Draco… Oh, Merlin please don't let that mean that they're…_ He couldn't even think it.

The next few seconds happened in a blur of light and gasps and spinning robes, and the moment seemed to flit by Harry like a carousel. But the next thing he knew, he saw the two people he loved most in the world, Sirius and Draco, among the five wizards clutching each other at the center of the Great Hall.

* * *

The Great Hall burst with commotion, with all the students running forward to see the five men.

"Enough!" Dumbledore called. "Stand back and give them some room! Anyone that the five do not request to come near them stand back, please."

Harry peered desperately over his friends' heads to catch a glimpse of the five boys. To his relief he saw Sirius get up off the floor, a little dusty and beaten but relatively all right. Marcus was on the floor holding Oliver, who Harry saw blinking slowly and looking rather weak. Charlie sported a black eye and a few cuts but looked well enough.

And then there was Draco, who hadn't gotten up off he floor and was clutching his leg, hissing in pain. Harry rushed forward, not heeding Dumbledore's orders.

"Draco!" Harry yelled.

The blonde's eyes lit up when he saw his lover rush over to him. Harry enveloped Draco in a soft embrace, cupping his face, then his neck, then his arms, just to make sure he was really there, really all right.

"You scared me shitless!" Harry sobbed despite telling himself to remain strong.

Draco's fingers trailed over Harry's soft cheek. "I'm sorry. But I came back to you, just like I promised."

Harry nodded as the tears started streaming down his trembling face.

"Oh, baby, don't cry," Draco whispered.

Harry shook his head fiercely. "I can't help it. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Draco said.

The two met each other halfway in a fierce and passionate kiss. Draco could feel the raw emotion that Harry poured into the entire embrace, touched by the desperation in his lover's touch.

"What's wrong with your foot?" Harry asked worriedly after they'd parted from the kiss.

Draco looked down at it, frowning. "I think I must have broken a bone."

Harry was about to call for a medic before he was shoved out of the way by Madame Pomfrey herself, who wasted no time in treating Draco.

* * *

"Charlie!"

The instant Charlie turned around, he was clobbered by Ginny, Fred, George and Ron, all hugging him tightly and desperately in relief.

"Don't you ever scare us…"

"…like that again, brother, or we will…"

"…kill you ourselves and then…"

"…you'll be sorry!"

But the twins' mantra was not filled with the usual mischievousness. It was laced with sadness and relief and pure emotion.

Charlie smiled at them, barely keeping in his tears. He had thought on numerous times during that mission that he was a goner.

"Thank Merlin," Ron kept breathing to Charlie, his eyes wide with disbelief and gratefulness. Beside him, Ginny was sobbing with happiness.

Charlie hugged them both tightly.

"Where's Cedric?" Charlie asked, looking around.

"Here," came a voice behind him.

Charlie turned around and smiled at the Hufflepuff, who was standing there, obviously trying to hold his restrained composure.

"Come here," Charlie said, shaking his head with amusement.

Cedric barely held the urge to run as he took a few strides to Charlie and wrapped his arms around him.

"Thank God," he breathed softly.

Charlie smirked good-naturedly. "I told you I wouldn't miss taking you out to dinner."

* * *

Marcus breathed heavily against Oliver's shoulder. He had the scot tight in his embrace, refusing to let go. His hands were clasping Oliver's neck, his fingers trembling.

"I'm okay, baby," Oliver whispered. Though he attempted to sound mildly happy, he knew his voice sounded as weak as he felt.

Marcus pulled back to lean his forehead against Oliver's.

"Those fucking bastards," he was muttering, his eyes boring deep into his lover's.

Oliver blinked away. "Let's not talk about it, please."

"But – "

"Mr. Flint, please get out the way so I can examine Mr. Wood," Madame Pomfrey snapped from behind him.

"Wh – "

"Now!"

Reluctantly, Marcus let go of Oliver but stayed close as Madame Pomfrey hustled up with her kit and started to check the injuries Oliver had sustained.

"Marc!" came a cry.

Marcus turned around and instantly had an armful of Terrence and Adrian.

"We thought you were a goner, mate!" Terrence exclaimed. Though his tone was carefully reserved, as expected by any Slytherin, his eyes betrayed his genuine worry.

Marcus gave them a lopsided, weak smile.

Adrian clapped him on the shoulder in relief. A few moments later, a hoard of other Slytherins came over to embrace Marcus, conveying their relief that he had come back in one piece.

"Want to go to the Hospital Wing?" Terrence asked.

Marcus shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Common room, then?" Adrian said, gesturing with his head towards the exit. "Or let's go to the kitchens or something, you must be starved."

Again, Marcus shook his head. "You guys go ahead. I'm staying with Oliver."

Despite a sharp look from Terrence, Adrian rolled his eyes at the mention of Oliver's name.

"Cool it with the boyfriend act, Marcus," he sighed. "You just saved him from bloody Voldemort. You don't need to stay with him 24/7. He's not a baby."

Marcus narrowed his eyes dangerously. "What the fuck, Ade?"

Adrian sighed heavily. "Why you would go through all this trouble for a fucking Gryffindor is beyond me. You risked your bloody _life;_ do you know how serious that is?"

"I risked my _life_ because I _love_ him," Marcus said, his voice trembling as it tried to remain coldly calm.

Adrian opened his mouth to bite back a retort but Terrence stopped him with a withering glare.

"Ade and I will see you later then," Terrence said, smiling at Marcus.

Marcus ran a tired hand over his face. It was obvious he wanted to say a few scathing words to Adrian, but hadn't the energy to do so. Instead he nodded at Terrence before the two Slytherins silently exited the hall.

Marcus immediately turned back to Oliver, who Madame Pomfrey was just finishing up with.

"Anything serious?" Marcus asked worriedly.

"Nothing that a few healing spells couldn't conquer," the mediwitch said, eyeing Oliver over one last time. "Make sure you get some rest, Mr. Wood. Don't exert yourself too much, and definitely no Quidditch for the next two days."

"But I can't not play Qui – "

"Yes you can," Madame Pomfrey snapped. She turned to Marcus. "You make sure he does not lay one foot on that pitch for the next 24 hours, do you understand?"

Marcus nodded; Madame Pomfrey grunted and left.

The Slytherin sat beside Oliver, thanking Merlin and every other spirit he could imagine up that the scot hadn't sustained any lasting injuries.

"Thank you," Oliver whispered, suddenly looking at Marcus and shocking him with the intensity of his gaze. "You saved my life. You and the others. You didn't even need to but you did."

Marcus looked at his boyfriend in confusion. "Didn't need to? Of course we did."

"But you risked your lives… You could have been killed, and for what? Just me?"

"It's not _just_ you," Marcus said fiercely. "How dare you value yourself so little?"

Oliver shrugged. "I'm sorry."

Marcus sighed and moved forward to cup Oliver's cheek in his hand. "You know Dumbledore would have sent a very willing team to save any Hogwarts student. But I risked my life for you because you _are_ my life."

Oliver looked up in shock.

"I've loved you for years, Oliver," Marcus confessed. "Whether or not we're together, if I had to live a life without you I wouldn't choose to."

Oliver's eyes widened in wonder. He knew that Marcus loved him. Heck, he knew that he meant nearly everything to the Slytherin and vice versa. But the thought that Marcus wouldn't want to live without him… the thought made Oliver's heart swell with love and awe.

"I love you too," Oliver said, tears hot in his eyes. "I don't deserve you, I really don't."

Marcus shook his head. "It's you who deserves more than me. You're beautiful, and look at me."

Oliver frowned. "You're beautiful too."

Marcus shrugged. "Maybe to you."

"Not maybe. I think you're perfect," Oliver whispered. He hated that Marcus didn't realize his own beauty. He got a hard time for his looks in general, but Oliver had always found the Slytherin captivating.

Marcus smiled softly. But then his smile was replaced by a troubled frown that he quickly tried to hide.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked immediately.

"Nothing," Marcus clearly lied.

"Tell me," Oliver said firmly.

Marcus sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

"What?" Oliver asked incredulously.

"During the battle. I lost sight of you, and that's how you got caught on that side of the shield," Marcus confessed heavily, eyes rimmed with regret.

"Shut up," Oliver said, shaking his head. "It was _not_ your fault. It was a fucking chaotic battle, that's what it was. I lost sight of you too, you know. The same could've happened to you."

"I know, but it didn't," Marcus snapped. "It happened to you and I couldn't protect – "

"I can protect myself," Oliver said indignantly.

"I know," Marcus replied, softening his tone. "I just… fuck, I feel like I failed you."

Oliver took both Marcus' hands in his and looked at him seriously.

"You could never fail me," he whispered. "And you saved me. Most people wouldn't have risked their lives, you know. But you did, for me. You don't know how much that means to me."

"You don't know how much _you_ mean to me," Marcus said, looking away suddenly, as if he were embarrassed at the confession.

"I do. I do," Oliver said, forcing Marcus to look back at him. "I know how much I mean to you. And… Merlin, Marcus, I love you more than I can even express."

"I love you too."

A few moments later, while they sat together with their arms wrapped around each other, Oliver grunted.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't believe I can't play Quidditch for two days."

"Oliver," Marcus groaned. "It's for your own good."

"But you wouldn't tell Madame Pomfrey if, say, I do a couple laps later on, would you?"

"I would," Marcus said sternly. "You need to recover."

"Please?" Oliver pouted, sticking a trembling bottom lip out.

"Stop with the fucking puppy eyes."

"You only say that because it works on you every time," Oliver grinned.

"You are _not_ doing any Quidditch for the next two days."

"Can I _do_ something else?"

"Oliver!"

"What?" Oliver asked innocently.

"What part of _rest_ do you not understand?"

"That's what I meant by 'something else' – sleep!" Oliver laughed. "What were you thinking of, huh?"

Marcus rolled his eyes.

"You're impossible."

"I'm a Gryffindor."

"Exactly."

* * *

After Harry had made sure Sirius was all right, the animagus had shooed him away jokingly to go check on Draco in the Hospital Wing. Now, he was sitting beside his boyfriend's bed, intertwining his fingers with his.

"Stupid cast," Draco sighed irritably, looking down at the cast that was now plastered around his ankle, which had, as the Slytherin suspected, suffered a broken bone.

"Why stupid?" Harry asked.

"I'll look ridiculous waddling around in the corridors with it," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

Harry laughed. "It's just like you to worry about how you look after what you've gone through."

"A Slytherin always takes pride in one's appearance."

Harry rolled his eyes in amusement. "I can tell," he teased. "You always look perfect, after all."

Draco's gaze softened and he looked at his lover with a smile.

"Of course I do," he said confidently.

"Ahem," Harry retorted pointedly.

"So do you, of course."

"That's better."

"Still, you're not better than me."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You have no idea how worried I was," Harry confessed a few moments later. "The thought of losing you… that… Merlin, Draco I felt like dying."

"No dying on me, Potter," Draco jested before his eyes turned serious. "I told you I wouldn't leave you."

Harry pressed his lips to Draco's pale knuckles. "I know. I was just scared."

Draco smiled fondly at Harry. "I love you," he said softly.

Harry returned the sentiment and leaned up to kiss Draco softly on the lips.

"You were so brave," Harry whispered, looking sadly at the various bruises and cuts on Draco's otherwise unblemished face.

"Says the mighty Harry Potter," Draco chuckled.

Harry shook his head. "Despite what some may think, it's not like I've ever done anything magnificently brave," Harry sighed.

"Standing up to Voldemort isn't brave?" Draco asked, eyebrow raised.

"We all stand up to him," Harry said.

"You lead us," Draco said simply.

"I didn't choose to."

"But you do," Draco said. "You lead us because we trust you. You stand up to the man who took your parents away from you. If that isn't brave, I'd be swayed to believe nothing is."

Harry leaned down and captured Draco's lips in another soft kiss, trailing his tongue across the Slytherin's bottom lip.

"Then if I'm brave, you're even braver," Harry said. "And don't ask me to tell you why I think that, because it could take me days to explain."

Draco chuckled softly. "You're such a sap."

Harry laughed. "A sap? Seriously?"

Draco shrugged teasingly. "I suppose, like bravery, sappiness is a Gryffindor trait."

"And I suppose Slytherins just have that trait of being incredibly annoying," Harry said jokingly.

"It's called witty," Draco said, a twinkle in his eyes.

Harry laughed. His hair fell to cover his eyes and Draco leaned up to brush it aside. He eyed Harry's berry red mouth and took the bottom lip between his teeth, making the Gryffindor gasp.

"I love you," Draco whispered into the kiss.

Harry's breathing got heavy as the kiss deepened. When Harry felt Draco's experienced tongue exploring his mouth, his touches got more and more hungry.

"Fuck, I want you…" Harry gasped in between whimpers.

Draco pulled back to look at him. "What?"

Harry blushed lightly. "I… I want you."

"Want me to what?" Draco asked, smiling cheekily.

"Draco, I…" Harry trailed off, blushing madly now.

"Yes?"

"I'm ready," Harry said after a moment, and the steadiness of his voice convinced Draco that he was being sincere. "I want you to be my first."

Draco looked at him soberly, searching Harry's eyes for any sign of uncertainty. But all he could detect was love and confidence.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Harry nodded immediately. "I love you."

Draco's eyes lit up with happiness. "As soon as my ankle heals, then we can."

Harry smiled. "Okay."

"I'll make it the best time of your life," Draco said, beaming.

"I know," Harry said as he snuggled his head carefully on Draco's shoulder.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in the library when Ron walked in, quickly rushing over to her with fidgety steps and determined eyes.

"'Mione?"

She looked up from her book. "Yes, Ron?"

"I need to talk to you," Ron said, his breaths getting heavier by the second.

"Um… all right," Hermione said, an eyebrow raised.

Ron took a seat next to her and continued breathing heavily, as though he was preparing himself mentally to take a Potions exam or something of the sort.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

Ron blinked.

"Right… I just wanted to tell you something," he gulped.

"Okay… What is it?" Hermione asked.

Ron sighed and bit at his lip.

"I like you."

Hermione looked at him, confused. "I like you too, Ron. We're friends, aren't we?"

"No, that's not what I mean," Ron said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

"…Then what do you mean?"

Ron took a deep breath.

"I have feelings for you."

Ron held his breath while Hermione looked at Ron neutrally. After a few tense moments, a small smile appeared on Hermione's lips.

"What?" she asked, her eyes almost squinting in amusement mixed with confusion.

"I have feelings for you," Ron said again. "I really like you."

"What about Astoria?" Hermione said, confused.

"I broke up with her days ago," Ron shrugged. "I mean, she was a nice girl and everything, real pretty, but I had no real feelings for her. But when you nearly died…"

"I didn't nearly _die,_ Ron," Hermione sighed.

"You could have died, all right?" Ron exclaimed. "It made me realize that… that I have feelings for you, 'Mione. I'm sorry if that's weird, but… I care about you loads and… Bloody hell, this was harder than I thought it would be…"

Hermione chuckled lightly and Ron looked at her quizzically.

"What?"

Hermione smiled at him fondly and shrugged. "I like you too."

Ron's eyes bulged impossibly. "What?"

Hermione laughed. "Do I really need to repeat myself?"

Ron slowly shook his head. "But… how?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're oblivious."

"Bloody hell…" Ron breathed.

* * *

"Did you see the new Firebolt 360s for sale at Hogsmeade?" Jack was saying eagerly.

Oliver nodded, his eyes lighting up.

"They're bloody expensive though," he complained, frowning.

"Are they really better than the Firebolt 180s?" Harry asked curiously.

Jack shrugged. "That's what I hear."

"Well, we can think of getting a set for the team next semester when we train for the finals," Oliver said, nodding as if deep in thought. He knew it would cost them plenty, but he also knew that in order to beat Hufflepuff or Slytherin in the finals, they'd have to have the best of the best in terms of equipment. It could make the difference.

"It's just like you to be lying in the Hospital Wing talking about unimportant things like Quidditch brooms," Percy grunted, flipping the page of the book he was reading. He was sitting on the chair in between Jack and Harry, all of whom had come to see how Oliver was doing in his recovery.

"What do you suppose we should talk about, then, Perce?" Jack laughed. "DADA?"

"Speaking of that, I heard the upperclassmen have a tough assignment," Harry said.

Percy snorted. "It's only tough for those who don't try."

Oliver hid a chuckle behind his fingers.

"Like Oliver here," Percy rolled his eyes, though everyone knew he was just teasing.

"Just because I don't like working doesn't mean I don't try," Oliver chuckled.

"Didn't you hand in that last assignment three weeks late?" Jack asked.

Oliver glared at him while Percy gasped. "Oh, Oliver, honestly…"

Harry laughed. "You're just like 'Mione, Percy."

"I take that as the utmost compliment," the redhead stated. "Surrounded by ruffians like you every day, some of us has to have some diligence, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes, Perce," Oliver said, smiling, "We need you to represent the Gryffindor academic rigor. We're counting on you."

They all burst out laughing at this, apart from Percy who just rolled his eyes.

"You're unbelievable; all of you."

Just then, the curtains were opened slowly to reveal Marcus, who was standing there with a mug in his hand.

"Hey, baby," Oliver said, smiling at his boyfriend.

"Hey," Marcus said softly, awkwardly nodding at the other Gryffindors, tight-lipped.

Percy nodded tersely at him before standing up. "All right, guys, we should probably go now. Jack, you have class in 10 minutes and Harry, I'm pretty sure 4th years aren't allowed in the Hospital Wing this late."

"It's scary how he knows my schedule," Jack muttered to Oliver before bidding him goodbye, Harry and Percy quickly following.

"Do they hate me?" Marcus asked wearily, his eyes narrowed in a deep frown.

Oliver shrugged with a small smile. "No, they're just weary around Slytherins, that's all."

"Weasley does, though."

"Does what?"

"Hate me."

"What makes you say that?"

Marcus sighed. "Nothing. Never mind."

Oliver frowned, but before the scot could say anything more, Marcus laid the mug he was carrying on Oliver's bedside table.

"What's that?" Oliver asked.

"Hot chocolate," Marcus grinned. "I stole a flask from the kitchens."

"My favorite," Oliver smiled. "Thank you, baby."

Marcus leaned down to kiss his boyfriend tenderly before taking a seat next to his bed.

"How are you feeling?" Marcus asked.

"Better. Still a little weak, though," Oliver said. His head was a little dizzy from the blow he'd suffered from being cursed into the wall, but other than that, he was just suffering from shock and stress.

"When you get better," Marcus was saying with a smile. "I'll take you out for a meal at Hogsmeade. How's that sound?"

"It sounds perfect," Oliver chuckled, looking at the Slytherin lovingly. "But wouldn't Adrian and Terrence want to spend Hogsmeade with you?"

"Nah," Marcus said immediately. "Terrence has a date with Viktor and Adrian's obsessed with getting Daphne to somehow forgive him."

"Forgive him for what?"

Marcus looked away, cursing himself for bringing it up. "Nothing," he said as smoothly as he could.

Oliver wasn't fooled this time. "Tell me."

"It was nothing."

"It was something," Oliver persisted. "Tell me."

Marcus sighed and shrugged. "When we were at Malfoy Manor finding you, Adrian just said some things that pissed her off, that's all."

"Things like what?" Oliver asked curiously.

"It doesn't matter," Marcus said firmly.

"Was it about me?" Oliver asked, figuring it was the only possibility considering how tense Marcus was.

Marcus' silence was Oliver's answer.

"What did he say?" Oliver asked, frowning.

Marcus took a quick breath. "He just didn't think I should be risking my life for the mission."

"For me, you mean."

Marcus looked away. "Ade's an idiot."

"He was just worried," Oliver said, somehow understanding the other Slytherin's stance. "Maybe he thought it was my fault you were out there… I mean, it _was…_ "

"No," Marcus said quickly. "Shut up."

"What?"

"It wasn't your fault, so don't even think that," Marcus snapped. "Ade's just an idiot who doesn't believe in Gryffindors dating Slytherins. He's got something up his arse, for real."

Oliver's brows furrowed. "Why doesn't he believe in that?"

Marcus shrugged. "He's not fond of Gryffindors, I guess. And so many Gryffindors are dating Slytherins now."

"Ahh," Oliver mused.

"I'm sorry if he treats you with anything less than civility," Marcus said seriously. "I've tried to tell him off, but…"

"No, don't do that," Oliver insisted. "He's your friend. Besides, he's entitled to think what he wants."

"Not when it comes to you," Marcus said, his voice firm. "When he starts spawning shit about you, I have the right to get fucking angry."

Oliver smiled fondly at Marcus. "My strong, protective Slytherin, huh?"

Marcus' anger was replaced by a small smirk. "Damn right."

Oliver leaned up to Marcus, offering his lips to the Slytherin, who captured them in a tender kiss. Soon, though, their embrace turned heated as Marcus' hands gently trailed down Oliver's collarbones as he moaned into the kiss. But when Marcus' fingers reached Oliver's chest, the scot gasped and pushed the Slytherin away roughly.

"What?" Marcus asked in shock.

Oliver was looking at him in horror. "I'm sorry… Oh Merlin, I'm sorry, I can't… I can't…"

Marcus looked confused. "You can't wh – " And then he remembered. Antonin Dolohov.

"Oliver," he said quickly. "Don't be sorry. I should be sorry. I didn't know, I swear I didn't."

Oliver kept shaking his head, his eyes brimming with hot tears. "No… no, no… I shouldn't be like this… I should be fine… I should be fine."

"Shhhh," Marcus said, resting tentative fingers on Oliver's back in support. "No… Baby, he was a horrible man and you have every right to feel this way. But he's gone now, okay? Nothing like that will ever happen to you again."

Oliver nodded slowly, though he trembled slightly. "I need you to know that… that nothing more happened between him and me…" his voice trailed off into a pained sob.

Marcus quickly moved to reassure his boyfriend. "No… baby, I know. I know."

"He just… he just touched me," Oliver said, his breaths coming in gasps. "And he… he sucked my neck… but other than that nothing happened. _Nothing…_ Please, I… Fuck…"

"It's okay, baby," Marcus soothed him softly. "You don't need to speak about it."

Oliver shook his head. His eyes were clenched shut and tears streamed down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed. "It's not that I don't want to touch you, or you to touch me… I'm just… I need some time…"

Marcus nodded immediately. "You have all the time you need. I'll never, ever, push you. I'll be here for you no matter what, baby."

Oliver sniffled and Marcus reached down to place a chaste kiss on his hair.

"I love you," Marcus said softly.

"I love you too," Oliver said emotionally. "So much."

* * *

The next morning, while the students were seated in the Great Hall for breakfast, a black owl burst into the hall, it's wings flapping like tidal waves and its eyes darting here and there like poison darts. All the students and professors looked up at it in shock.

The owl landed in front of Dumbledore and released a howler made of jet-black paper.

As the whole hall seemed to hold it's breath, Dumbledore opened the howler, which jolted into the air with purpose.

Its voice rang deep and forebodingly.

" _Students and staff of Hogwarts, refugees of Durmstrang and wizards of the ministry, I bring you this howler to inform you that I am aware of your little mission to bring back Mr. Oliver Wood from my impeccable care. I am shocked and appalled by your actions, as I thought I had made it perfectly clear that Mr. Wood was my reward. Also, I have been made aware that a few of my Death-Eaters have not been seen or heard from since the day of the attack. I do intend to find out what has happened to them, though I have no care of what becomes of them. My army is big enough._

 _But enough of the information you are already aware of. As I told you when I last met you, I will leave Hogwarts alone for the time being. As you can see, I am a man of my word and I intend to stay clear of your school. For now. But know that one day in the future, be it near or far, I will strike your school, and I will kill every single living soul there. So, children, professors, with this knowledge, I pray you live in fear."_

Dumbledore and the other professors were quick to silence the gasps and screams of panic that overwhelmed the hall in the wake of the howler. Dumbledore quickly reassured them, as he did the last time, that their school had been secured double fold since the Battle of the Hall, and that they had inside knowledge of Voldemort's whereabouts in order to be prepared for any possible threat.

"Merlin," Harry gasped. He was grateful for Draco's reassuring hand on his shoulder and his other arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

"He's wrong," Draco said firmly, his eyes glowing with a restrained emotion. "He won't defeat us."

"Damn right," Seamus said, though his eyes were unfocused and weary.

"We will win," Hermione said, and the confidence in her tone had all the Gryffindors who could hear her convinced, for that moment, that they had the power to triumph the utmost evil.

* * *

First of all, I owe all of you a really huge apology for not updating in so very long. It's been a really tough year, but regardless, no excuses. I'm back at it, though. Hope you liked this chapter! Xx Lacey


	16. Chapter 16

A few weeks had passed since Voldemort's howler, and although the students and professors were all much more alert and cautious than they had been before, it seemed like life had moved on, and everyone felt safe and happy. The professors had done their hardest to make sure their students felt secure, and as a result, the atmosphere at Hogwarts was definitely brightening.

Harry and Draco's relationship had thrived after the blond had gotten back from rescuing Oliver, and with that the two grew closer than ever. Now it was not an odd sight at all to see Draco Malfoy hanging about near the Gryffindor tower, though he was always there to for Harry and no one else. It wasn't odd either to see Blaise with the blond, as he too often picked Seamus up from the Gryffindor common rooms.

When Harry had found out about Hermione and Ron, who officially started going out, he had been completely elated. He knew Ron would come around one day. He and Hermione, though they sometimes got into petty arguments stemming from Ron's clumsiness and lack of tact, cared for each other so much, resulting in a pretty steadfast relationship.

It was a Saturday morning when Harry, Ron and Dean were lounging on the couch of the common room, having slept in, missed breakfast, and subsequently played a round of exploding snap to decide who would sneak down into the kitchens to grab them something to eat. Seamus had lost and he still wasn't back yet with the food.

"Bloody 'ell, I'm starving," Ron complained, his head falling back on the cushion.

Dean's stomach growled and Harry chuckled.

"Where is he?" Dean muttered. "I hope he didn't find Blaise or something and go off to snog."

"Not before he brings us our breakfast!" Ron groaned.

"Where's Malfoy this morning?" Dean asked Harry.

"He's with Pansy and Theodore in his dorm room," Harry said. "They said they needed to do some redecorating."

Ron snorted. "What a Slytherin thing to do."

"Well… our room probably needs some redecorating," Harry said, chuckling.

"More like a good clean," Dean said with a grimace.

There was a knock at the door and Ron instantly jumped out of his seat to answer it.

"Did Shay forget the password?" Dean laughed.

Ron was chuckling as he opened the door.

"It's about time, Shay – " Ron froze. "Oh. Hi."

Harry craned his head and saw Marcus Flint glaring back at Ron, who paled completely. Harry stifled a laugh at Ron's gob smacked look.

"You seen Oliver?" the Slytherin drawled.

Ron shook his head, muted, it seemed.

"You know where he is?" Marcus asked, his tone tinged with irritation.

Ron shook his head again, almost in fright of the big, tall Slytherin captain who was looking at him with a deadpan expression.

"Can you talk, Weasley?" Marcus rolled his eyes.

Behind Ron, Harry got up to save his friend.

"Last I saw him he left the common room with Percy," Harry said. "About an hour ago? I don't know where they went."

Marcus nodded. Wordlessly, he turned around and walked away.

"Earth to Ron?" Harry asked, waving his hand in front of Ron's face.

Ron seemed to jolt back to life. "Shit."

Harry and Dean laughed.

"Man, you were scared shitless," Dean chuckled.

"Flint's a scary bloke!" Ron exclaimed. "I swear I thought he was going to beat me up just then!"

"He was only asking you a question," Harry laughed.

"Yeah, well he always looks like he wants to beat the crap out of everyone," Ron replied, his cheeks flushed. "I don't know how Oliver copes, honestly."

Harry shrugged. "He's good to Oliver."

"He better be," Ron muttered under his breath.

Just then, the door opened again and in walked Seamus, with Blaise in tow.

"No wonder you took so long," Ron rolled his eyes at seeing the black-eyed Slytherin, eyeing the plates of food the two boys were carrying.

"Sorry," Seamus said, his mouth full of chips. He swallowed. "I bumped into him and asked him to help me carry all of this stuff."

"Bumped into him… sure," Dean smirked as he sat down with a plate of hash browns and sausages.

"Well, thanks you guys," Harry smiled.

"Thanks, baby," Seamus said, leaning up to give Blaise a kiss on the cheek as he laid the last of the plates down on the common room table.

"Only for you," he sighed.

"Aww," Dean said teasingly, but Blaise's glare silenced him.

"Oh, you guys heard about that page they're doing for the yearbook?" Seamus asked, taking a seat next to Dean.

The boys shook their heads.

"Apparently they're doing a superlatives page," Seamus explained. "Blaise and I saw a poster explaining it on the way here."

"What's a superlative?" Ron asked.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Things like 'best smile,' 'most good looking,' 'most likely to become so and so…' It's a ridiculous idea."

"Hey, I think it's fun!" Seamus said playfully.

"You would," Blaise smirked.

"Who decides who'll be nominated as what superlative?" Harry asked curiously.

Seamus shrugged. "Some kind of charm works it all out."

"Think you'll get 'most good looking,' mate?" Ron said to Harry cajolingly.

"I'd go for 'clumsiest,'" Dean laughed jokingly.

Harry look mock affronted, then laughed. "I don't think I'll get any of them. It'll be upperclassman-heavy anyway, considering they're the ones graduating soon."

They all laughed, except Blaise, who only allowed himself a small smile.

"Come on, less talking, more eating, before the food gets cold," Seamus said.

"You staying for breakfast?" Harry asked Blaise.

Blaise shrugged. "Might as well. I did bring half these plates up. That is if you don't mind."

Harry almost laughed out loud. Though affected by his Slytherin wit and coldness, Blaise was pretty much made of manners.

"'Course we don't," Dean said, and Blaise took a seat beside Seamus.

"Damn, I'm hungry," Ron said, stuffing spoonfuls and spoonfuls of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"Yes, we can see that," came a voice from behind them.

It was Hermione, who promptly walked over to Ron.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, please," she said with a sigh.

"Don't I get a good morning kiss?" Ron chuckled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm going upstairs to get some studying done. I'll see you all later, all right?"

As the boys bade her goodbye, she gave Ron a quick kiss, much to the redhead's delight, and made her way upstairs.

"Daphne?"

The blond girl turned around and sighed softly when she saw Adrian coming to sit next to her.

"Yes?" she asked politely.

She wanted so badly to let her guard down with Adrian, like she had before, but after his snide comments while Marcus and Draco were at Malfoy Manor were much too distasteful for her liking. She did like most of the Gryffindors, after all.

"We need to talk," Adrian sighed.

"About what?"

"About what I said… about Marcus and Oliver."

Daphne sighed again and looked away. "I don't really want to talk about it, Adrian."

Adrian shook his head desperately. "Please. I know what I said offended you, but I was just worried as hell about Marcus. You know how much he means to be, even though I don't show it all the time. I mean, he's my best mate."

"I know," Daphne said finally. "And I understand that. But your hostility towards Oliver, and towards Harry as well, was completely unnecessary. Why do you hate them so much?"

"They're Gryffindors."

"Oh, don't tell me you're not past this stupid house rivalry," Daphne admonished lightly.

"But all Slytherins generally treat Gryffindors like that," Adrian shrugged, slightly guiltily.

"No," Daphne said. "Sure, they're not friendly to Gryffindors necessarily, but they don't need to go throwing around insults, especially when lives and loves are involved."

"Marcus doesn't love Oliver," Adrian insisted, rolling his eyes. "It's just a passing phase."

"That's horrible to say," Daphne said, frowning.

Adrian shrugged. "It's not horrible. It's just my opinion. I'm not insulting anyone here."

Daphne sighed. "Fine. I know that. But why don't you think they love each other?"

Adrian shrugged again. "I just don't believe that Slytherins and Gryffindors can be together. They're too different. Fundamentally. They were rivals for years. So were Harry and Draco. If they fight, they'll go back to their old ways inevitably."

Daphne looked at Adrian closely, as if considering something. "Okay, that's fair enough if that's what you think. But give them a chance. Just because you believe it won't work, doesn't mean you need to taunt them about it."

Adrian sighed heavily. "I know. That was my mistake. I won't do it again. I was just angry at the time. And I hate that I've hurt you, Daphne…"

Daphne gave a hint of a smile. "I guess it's all right. If you promise not to be horrible to them like that again…" she added uncertainly.

Adrian nodded immediately. "Of course. It's not worth my while anyway. Marcus and Draco can do what they want to do."

Daphne smiled then. "Okay. You're forgiven."

"Great," Adrian said, beaming genuinely.

Percy and Oliver were walking in the courtyard, stretching their legs after a two-hour study session in the library. Well, at least it was a two-hour study session for Percy. Half that time, Oliver was just twirling his pen, complaining about how bored he was.

"You really need to get that essay done, Oliver," Percy said as they walked, the cold winter air blowing their hair this way and that.

"I know, I know," Oliver said guiltily. "I promise I'll work on it tonight. Or this weekend."

"Better get it done tonight," Percy said pointedly. "This weekend is Hogsmeade weekend, and don't even pretend you'll get anything done. I know you, Oliver Wood."

Oliver laughed. "Only too well."

"Remember the last time you left an essay to last minute?" Percy asked, fighting a chuckle.

"I swear I tried!" Oliver groaned, covering his face. "But the topic was just so confusing."

"You wrote an essay about unicorns when it was supposed to be on the nature of Dementors," Percy exclaimed.

"Call it… imaginative?" Oliver offered.

"More like stupid."

Oliver laughed and smacked Percy lightly on the side of the head.

As they turned a corner and started skirting the Black Lake, the wind eased up.

"Oliver," Percy began, his voice serious.

"Yep?"

"I don't know if you know this but… When you were held captive, I sort of got angry at Flint," Percy said, sighing.

"I know, Marcus told me."

Percy looked at him curiously. "You angry at me, then?" he asked bluntly, his features slightly sad.

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked, shocked.

Percy shrugged. "I thought you'd get mad at me for yelling at Flint. He's your boyfriend, after all."

Oliver frowned and stopped in mid-step.

"You're my best friend, Perce," he said.

"I know," Percy sighed. "I just didn't know whether you'd take his side or mine."

"There are no sides," Oliver said, shrugging. "I love you both, and taking sides is pointless."

"So you aren't upset that I don't like him very much?" Percy asked.

"Well, I wish you both liked each other, of course," Oliver said simply. "But if you don't, then you don't. There's nothing I can do about it, and I don't want to do anything about it. I wouldn't force you two to like each other."

Percy smiled at him. "Well, I can definitely say that your greatness as a friend balances out the state of your grades right now."

Oliver laughed. "Aw, Perce," he said, giving his friend a heartfelt embrace.

"Besides," Oliver continued. "You must've been worried when I was gone. I know that emotions can make you say things you don't mean."

The scot thought back to when he'd rejected Marcus coldly and cruelly, shivering though not from the cold this time.

"Yeah," Percy admitted, frowning again. "God, Oliver, you don't know how anxious I was. And the thing is I wasn't even mad at Flint as much as I was mad at myself for not protecting you."

"Never think that," Oliver said immediately. "There was nothing the both of you, or anyone, could've done."

Percy smiled softly. "I know. I just can't help blaming myself."

"I know."

"And for the record, I don't hate Flint," Percy said.

Oliver looked at him in surprise. "You don't?"

Percy shook his head. "Well, I still think he's an arrogant, violent, brutal, unmannered…"

"Okay, I get the point…" Oliver chuckled.

Percy laughed. "While I do still think those things about him, I know he cares for you, and you care for him. And if he makes you happy, how can I hate him?"

Oliver looked at his best friend, gratitude and happiness almost making his eyes hurt.

"You're awesome, do you know that?"

Percy shrugged, smiling. "I get told that from time to time."

Oliver laughed and crushed Percy with a tight embrace.

"Oliver! Can't…breathe…"

Oliver let go, smiling brightly.

Percy chuckled. "Come on, let's go inside before we both catch colds."

"That would give me an excuse not to work on the essay, though…"

"Oliver!"

"Ron! Hurry up!" Harry said, shifting his feet impatiently in the cold.

"Coming!" Ron called back. Moments later, he appeared at the door to the common room, adjusting his scarf around his neck.

"Let's walk before we freeze," Harry said.

The two made their way to the school entrance and headed for Hogsmeade. They'd both decided to spend this Hogsmeade weekend together and not with their significant others. Their excuses had been that they needed some time to bond between friends, and although that had been partly the truth, they both needed to get presents for Draco and Hermione, whose birthdays were the next week, two days apart from each other.

"So, mate," Ron began as they window-shopped down one of the streets. "What kind of things is Draco into?"

Harry sighed with a confused frown. "Well, he likes things that are… well-made…"

Ron chuckled. "Expensive stuff."

"No," Harry smiled. "Not necessarily. Just in good taste."

"Well, I can't talk, since I've no idea what to get Hermione," Ron groaned. "How about that?"

Harry looked and saw that Ron was pointing at a rather tacky wooden birdhouse displayed behind one of the glass windows.

"A birdhouse?" Harry said, grimacing.

"It has a homey look to it!" Ron said. "And besides, she likes animals… right?"

Harry shook his head in amusement. "I don't think that's the best present to get, Ron."

Ron groaned and Harry laughed. "Let's just keep walking. We're bound to find something."

As they walked down the snowy streets, passing by a few Hogwarts students here and there, Harry found himself immersed in his thoughts. He'd been thinking for weeks and weeks about his and Draco's relationships – specifically, about their intimacy level. They'd talked about going that final step after Draco's ankle had healed. Now it had been roughly two weeks after he'd removed the cast, and the subject hadn't come up again. Harry wondered if Draco was maybe afraid of being the first to bring it up lest it seemed like he was pushing Harry.

He groaned inwardly. He almost wished Sirius was still there, as he needed someone to talk to about this kind of thing, but the animagus had left a few weeks ago after a tearful goodbye. Besides, Harry didn't exactly know if talking to his godfather about sex was the best idea.

But Harry knew he was ready. He was ready and he wanted it. He wanted Draco to make love to him. Maybe they could… for Draco's birthday. Harry smiled a little at the thought. Yes, he thought. That sounds perfect.

"What're you smiling bout?" Ron asked him in amusement.

Harry blushed. "Nothing."

Ron chuckled. "I won't even ask."

"Hey, Ron, look at that!" Harry said, looking into a shop that seemed to sell limited edition and vintage books.

Ron's eyes lit up as something dawned on him. "Oh, mate, is that a Transfiguration section?"

Harry peered into the bookstore and saw a shelf labeled 'Collector's Transfiguration Books.' Before he could nod, Ron bolted in the door and Harry followed.

"This morning, Hermione was writing her Transfiguration essay and she told me how much she wished she had better books to use," Ron said as he walked down the isles. "She says that the library doesn't have any collector's books."

"That's perfect, Ron!" Harry exclaimed, smiling.

A few moments later, Ron and Harry were back out in the street after Ron had bought a whole set of collector's books for Hermione. Though it wasn't cheap, the bookstore owner incidentally knew Ron's father and gave him a hefty discount, for which the redhead was eternally grateful.

"Man, I hope she likes them," Ron sighed, eyeing his plastic bag.

Harry laughed. "Of course she will, Ron."

"Hey, isn't that Charlie?" Harry said as they turned the corner onto a street of restaurants.

"Yeah!" Ron exclaimed, waving his brother over. Harry saw that Cedric was with him.

"Hey, little bro, Harry," Charlie said with a smile.

"Hey," Ron and Harry replied. Ron blushed a little when he noticed Cedric. "Sorry, didn't know we were interrupting something."

Cedric smiled kindly. "Don't worry about it; you weren't."

"Cedric and I are just going for dinner at Café Renaissance," Charlie said, glancing fondly at his boyfriend.

Ron smiled. "Getting fancy, huh?"

Charlie just rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Where are Hermione and Draco?"

"Not with us," Harry said, putting his hands in his pockets against the cold. "We're getting them birthday presents."

"Ahh," Charlie said in amusement. "Well, I hope you two enjoy your night. Stay safe, Harry, especially with my brother around," he laughed.

"Sure thing," Harry chuckled.

After saying their goodbyes, the couple made their way into the restaurant while Ron and Harry walked down yet another street of shops, still trying to find Draco's present.

"I should just give up," Harry groaned after a while. "I'm such a horrible excuse for a boyfriend."

"We'll come across something, mate," Ron insisted.

After a few more minutes of walking, Harry came across a clothing store, and a turtle-neck jumper in the display caught his eye. It looked like the exact one he'd worn on a Quidditch match, when Draco had complimented it – except that it was not grey like Draco's eyes, but green like Harry's own.

A small smile crept across Harry's face.

"Got my present, Ron," he said in relief.

Like Ron and Harry, Oliver wasn't spending this Hogsmeade weekend with his boyfriend, but instead wanted to spend it with his closest friends, who he didn't want to lose bonds with now that he spent so much time with Marcus.

He was currently sitting around a small table at Azure, the closest nightclub to Hogwarts. Jack had insisted that they go some place to let out some steam, and Oliver, Katie and the Weasley twins had agreed. Percy was reluctant, but Oliver's puppy eyes did the trick and now the redhead was seated in front of him in the crowded club.

"Perce, lighten up!" Oliver laughed, seeing Percy tense up at anyone who brushed up against him from behind.

Percy rolled his eyes. "This isn't my scene, you know that."

Jack laughed and patted him on the back. "You gotta learn to live a little!"

Katie giggled. "Yeah, Perce, with how hard you've been working these days, you deserve a break."

Oliver glanced up and saw Fred and George chatting up two girls at the bar. He chuckled as their facial expressions turned from fascinated, to shocked, to confused, then to amused. No girl would ever be bored with the Weasley twins, that's for sure.

"Let's dance," Jack said, taking a swig of his beer and grabbing Katie's hand while beckoning Oliver and Percy.

Oliver got up and literally had to drag Percy to the dance floor. Once there, Oliver could barely contain his laughter when he saw Percy's eyes widen as he was immediately pulled into a dance with a pretty brunette.

Oliver danced with Jack and Katie for a while, moving to the music easily, having had his fair share of nights at this very club. Fred and George joined their little circle after a while, bringing two clearly tipsy girls with them.

Oliver felt someone grinding on him from behind and moved forward to avoid the touch.

"I'm Colin," the stranger said, smiling seductively, moving forward again.

When he rubbed up against Oliver's behind again, the keeper spun around, frowning.

"Sorry, I'm taken," he said.

"Aw, come on, baby," Colin whispered huskily. "You're so hot."

"No," Oliver said.

When Colin didn't listen to him and instead grabbed at his hip and pressed Oliver's body hard against his, Oliver struggled to pull back. He looked around and couldn't see Percy, Jack, Katie or the twins anywhere.

"Stop!" he said a little louder as Colin didn't stop his advances. "I'm with someone."

Then with a big push, Oliver heaved himself away from Colin and glared at him.

"Well, I don't see him anywhere," Colin smirked.

"Now you do," came a dark sneer.

Oliver turned and nearly sagged with relief when he saw Marcus standing there, and behind him, Terrence and Viktor. They must have decided to come here too.

"Get out of here before I fucking hex you," Marcus snarled at Colin.

Colin looked shocked but held his ground. "Yeah? And who do you think you are, huh?"

Marcus stepped forward menacingly and brandished his wand. Colin's confidence faltered when he saw the pure rage on Marcus' face and he started to back away.

"All right, I'm gone," he said nervously before he turned tail and fled.

Marcus was about to go after him when Oliver hugged him from behind.

"Hi," Oliver said, smiling.

Marcus' gaze instantly softened when he looked at his boyfriend.

"Did he do anything?"

Oliver shook his head. "I wouldn't let him. He just didn't want to back off."

"Yeah, I saw," Marcus said, glaring in the direction Colin had sped off in. "He's lucky I didn't hex his balls off."

Oliver rolled his eyes with a smile. "Thank you for saving me, baby."

Marcus grinned. "Of course."

"And I thought we wanted to spend Hogsmeade with our respective friends!" Oliver laughed.

"Well, that was the plan," Marcus said, frowning when he saw Terrence off on the dance floor grinding with Viktor.

Oliver laughed. "Well, now that we're here, together… in a nightclub…"

Marcus smiled as he wrapped his arms around Oliver's waist as they danced, pressed closely together.

"Fuck, you look so hot right now," Marcus said, looking down at what Oliver was wearing: a white shirt that showed off the ripples of his abdomen and a pair of tight leather pants. "No wonder that bastard wanted you. Who wouldn't… you are so gorgeous."

"I love you," Oliver whispered, his eyes dazed with lust. Marcus was dressed in all black, and Oliver thought it made him look all the more mysteriously gorgeous.

"I love you too."

As they grinded even more heatedly, Oliver's breaths became ragged and heavy. He tilted his chin upwards and Marcus kissed him fiercely. Oliver moaned softly as Marcus' hands traveled lower, though he frowned when he noticed that Marcus stopped above his belt. In a wave of arousal, he grabbed Marcus' hand and led it to his groin.

"Oliver," Marcus gasped as he broke the kiss. "Are you sure you're… ready?"

Oliver nodded, and the certainty in his eyes left Marcus doubtless that he was telling the truth.

"I love you and I don't want what happened to me to prevent me from loving you like you deserve," he said, his eyes unwavering.

"You love me more than I deserve already," Marcus insisted.

Oliver shook his head. "I know… but I want to. I want you to make love to me again. I'm ready," he said firmly. "Besides, you look really, really, good right now, baby…"

Marcus smiled. "Fine, if you're sure. But can we go to the spare room in the tower? I don't want to give these people a show."

Oliver grinned. "Let's go."

Three days later, Draco was seated with Harry in his dorm room, just the two of them. Ron was with Hermione, Seamus with Blaise, and Harry had given Dean three galleons to do what he wanted with as long as he left for the next few hours – Harry suspected he'd used them downstairs, as it was poker night in the Gryffindor common room.

Harry was holding his breath now as Draco was opening his present, which Harry had tried his best to wrap as neatly as possible in green paper with a silver bow. He bit his lip as Draco lifted the piece of clothing out of the wrapping.

"Do you like it?" Harry asked softly.

Draco looked up at Harry, let out an amused breath and smiled in appreciation.

"I love it," he said, laying out the jumper on his lap. "It reminds me of your eyes…" he looked up and smiled happily.

"Exactly," Harry chuckled. "And now we have matching, or, well, similar, jumpers."

"And it matches my bracelet," Draco said, glancing down at the silver and green band on his wrist.

"Yeah, I definitely thought about that too," Harry said, nodding immediately.

Draco laughed and leaned forward to kiss Harry lovingly. "I love you so much."

"I love you too. Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you. I'm not wearing it when you're wearing your grey one, though," Draco said.

Harry frowned. "Why not?"

"I won't be caught dead wearing matching clothing as my boyfriend," Draco grimaced. "It's distasteful, not to mention tacky."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You and your classy standards."

"Well, someone needs to have them in this relationship," Draco said, smirking at Harry's mock insulted look.

"Relax, Potter," he said jokingly. "I'm only teasing."

Harry eased into Draco's embrace. He always loved how his body seemed to be made to fit right into his lover's. Draco smiled softly and played with Harry's unruly hair as Harry pressed soft kisses to Draco's chest.

"Baby?" Harry asked, then held his breath.

"Mhmm?"

"I told all my roommates to leave for a couple of hours," Harry said, his heart beating wildly in his chest, though there was a steadiness in his voice and mind.

"I noticed," Draco chuckled softly. "And that's probably why Blaise shoved me out of my room to be with Finnigan before I came here."

Harry laughed lightly. "Well… I told them to leave because I… I wanted to be alone with you."

"I know," Draco said, frowning.

"Well… I… Fuck, I don't know how to say this."

"What is it?" Draco asked sharply, his features marred with worry.

"Remember when we… when we talked about… you know…"

"I know wh –" And then it dawned. A soft smile appeared on Draco's lips as he leaned down to look at Harry, who was blushing lightly.

"I can understand if you've changed your mind," Harry said quickly. "I mean, you were injured and maybe you didn't mean it when you agreed that we would, you know, after you healed… but we never really talked about it and…"

"Harry, Harry, stop," Draco said.

Harry looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes and Draco felt his heart swell.

"I didn't say anything about it because I didn't know if you still wanted to do it," Draco admitted. "And I thought that if I brought it up, you might feel obligated to do it, and that's not at all what I wanted you to feel."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly. "So… you do want to…?"

Draco chuckled. "I love you, Harry. Of course I want to. But only if you know that you're ready."

Harry nodded immediately. "I am. And I thought that maybe… tonight, for your birthday, we could."

Draco's eyes widened as he realized the implications of Harry telling his roommates to leave.

"Love, are you sure?" Draco said slowly, his eyes concentrating on Harry's every expression.

"I am," Harry said, his voice firm and unwavering, his eyes only filled with love and certainty.

Draco smiled.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Of course," Harry said.

"And you're not just doing this because it's my birthday?" Draco frowned uncertainly.

"Of course not," Harry insisted. "I love you. I want you to make love to me, Draco. Please."

At Harry's words, Draco's resolve melted as he leaned forward and captured Harry's lips in a tender kiss.

As they kissed, Draco gently moved Harry back onto the bed, savoring the sweet taste of his lips. Harry looked up at him, his eyes innocent and completely trusting. Draco smiled at him lovingly.

"I trust you," Harry whispered. "I don't know what to do, though…" he said, biting his lip.

"Just like those other times," Draco said reassuringly. "You don't need to do anything. Just let me."

Harry nodded, eyes brimming with love as Draco started taking of his shirt. Draco's shirt soon followed, then their pants, and then their boxers.

Draco looked down at Harry's naked frame, smiling in awe.

Harry looked up at him nervously. "Do you... do you like… uh…"

Draco silenced him with a soft kiss that left Harry breathless and panting.

"You're so beautiful, Harry," he whispered. "Completely and utterly beautiful."

Harry smiled as he reveled in the feel of Draco's warm skin against his own.

"You're perfect, Draco," he said, voice laced with emotion.

A few moments later, Draco had brought Harry to release once already, and the raven-haired boy was content and relaxed as Draco prepared to enter him.

"I love you," Draco whispered.

"I love you too," Harry said.

The Gryffindor gasped when he felt Draco pushing into him slowly. Draco leaned down and trailed tender kisses on Harry's neck, calming him. It was not long before pain was replaced by pleasure, and Harry was writhing and gasping under Draco's ministrations.

"Oh, God…" Draco whispered hot into Harry's ear as he rocked his hips.

Harry had never felt anything better in his entire life as he arched off the bed when he reached his climax, the blond on top of him following only seconds later.

After Draco had performed a quick cleaning spell on them both, Harry snuggled into his embrace, feeling more warm and safe and loved than ever before.

"How was it?" Draco asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss below Harry's ear.

"It was perfect," Harry whispered, his eyes still glowing with happiness.

Draco smiled. "You are perfect."

"Thank you, baby," Harry said. "You made it the best night of my life and it isn't even my birthday."

Draco chuckled as he toyed with Harry's hair. "It was the best night of my life too and by far the best birthday ever."

Harry smiled and kissed Draco one last time before the two started drifting off to sleep.

"Love you, Draco."

"I love you too."


	17. Chapter 17

Oliver walked into the Great Hall for breakfast and was immediately greeted with a bunch of students whispering and chattering animatedly amongst themselves. When he reached the Gryffindor table, he saw why.

"Oliver!" Katie exclaimed, seeing him. "You got a superlative!"

"A what?" Oliver said.

"You remember the yearbook page full of the superlatives?" Katie said.

Oliver nodded; he and Percy had talked about it a couple of days ago.

"Well, the results are out!" she said, handing him a parchment, which Oliver immediately began reading.

 **Most good-looking boy:** Roger Davies

 **Most good-looking girl:** Daphne Greengrass

 **Smartest boy:** Percy Weasley

 **Smartest girl:** Penelope Clearwater

 **Best smile:** Astoria Greengrass and Cormac McLaggen

 **Best to bring home to mom and dad:** Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang

 **Most likely to brighten your day:** Susan Bones and Seamus Finnigan

 **Most likely to win a verbal argument:** Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy

 **Class Clown:** Fred and George Weasley

 **Most likely to win a fistfight:** Marcus Flint

 **Most likely to become an auror:** Harry Potter

 **Most likely to become a professional Quidditch player:** Oliver Wood

 **Most likely to procrastinate:** Ron Weasley

Oliver laughed when he saw Ron's name in that category. He looked at the redhead, who Hermione was admonishing for his clearly obvious lack of work ethic.

"I'm sure Oliver would've taken that category, Ron, if he hadn't been a shoe in for professional Quidditch player," Percy commented.

"Hey!" Oliver complained, chuckling. "It's all right, Ron. Procrastination means you have more time to do important things," he grinned.

Ron laughed and high-fived him.

"Ron!" Hermione said.

"What?"

The bushy-haired girl groaned. "You are hopeless."

"But you're still dating me," Ron smiled.

Hermione rolled her eyes, though her eyes softened in fondness.

"Hey, looks like your boyfriend can bail you out of a fight whenever, Ollie!" Fred said, smiling in amusement.

Oliver smirked. "Damn right he can."

"Damn, the way you're smirking makes it obvious how much time you spend around him, captain!" George exclaimed, then they both burst into laughter.

"I can't understand why Roger Davies is the most good-looking," Lavender commented.

"Who would you have chosen?" Dean asked.

Lavender shrugged. "Cedric, maybe. Or Oliver."

Oliver smiled in embarrassment.

"Well, it's probably because those two were already shoe-ins for their categories," Neville suggested.

"Hey, where's Seamus?" Dean asked, looking around for his best friend.

"Brightening up Zabini's day," George offered in between chuckles.

In spite of himself, Dean couldn't help but laugh. "And Harry?"

"He's still in the room," Ron said. "He had his curtains closed and a silencing charm up."

"You didn't wake him?" Hermione gasped.

"Well, he had his curtains closed and a silencing charm up…" Ron repeated, his eyes hinting at something that Hermione couldn't quite catch.

"What?"

"Draco was there with him," Ron muttered quickly before shoving a spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

"Oh!"

"Baby?"

Harry yawned as he opened his eyes, his vision blurry from sleep.

"Mmm?" he hummed, stretching.

"I have something for you," Draco said.

Harry looked at him, confused. "What?"

"I bought you a gift," Draco said. "I was supposed to give it to you last night but…"

Harry blushed a little, remembering the night before. The best night of their lives.

"But it was your birthday!" Harry said. "You shouldn't have gotten me anything."

"You've already gotten me more than one gift, babe," Draco said, leaning over the bed and grabbing a small box. "I wanted to get you something too."

Harry's eyes brimmed with gratitude. "You didn't have to."

"You Gryffindors are odd," Draco smirked. "Any Slytherin would accept a present without question."

Harry rolled his eyes then stopped as Draco handed him a small, velvet green box.

"Open it," Draco said softly.

Harry opened the box with nervous hands and immediately gasped when he saw a bright silver ring nestled inside. It was glittering as though made of the most divine silver, and it had a small white diamond in the middle of it.

"It's a family heirloom," Draco explained.

"Draco," Harry gasped, looking up at the blond. "It's beautiful… surely you can't give an heirloom away to me, though."

"Of course I can," Draco said confidently. "I can choose to give it to whomever I wish. And it's you I trust more than anyone."

Tears sprung to Harry's eyes as he leaned forward and crushed the Slytherin in a fierce embrace.

"I have another surprise for you too, actually," Harry said after a few moments.

"A surprise?"

"Well, it depends on how you react to it," Harry replied nervously.

Draco lifted a careful eyebrow in curiosity.

"I know we're spending the winter break apart," Harry began, and Draco nodded slowly. "But I was wondering if you wanted to come spend Christmas and New Year's with me at the Burrow."

Draco blinked.

"I mean… I'll be staying at the Burrow the entire time, so I just thought that maybe…"

Draco smiled softly at Harry, though he looked slightly bemused. "Won't Weasley go mad?"

Harry chuckled. "Believe it or not, no. I actually discussed it with him and he said he'd be fine with it as long as you, and I quote, stay out of his way."

Draco laughed. "Well what about the other Weasleys? I'm a Malfoy, after all."

"Don't worry," Harry reassured him. "I've talked to Fred, George, Ginny, Charlie, and I've owled Bill and Molly and Arthur. They don't mind at all; Molly actually insisted. I have my own room there and everything, so you'll have your privacy…"

"Wow," Draco said, looking at Harry in surprise. "You really planned this out."

Harry nodded. "I just wanted to make sure it would be perfect for you if you decided to go. I mean, I know we'll see each other on some weekends and we can always apparate to each other if we miss each other, but I just thought we could have some concrete time together. But I mean… I know you might want to spend that time with your parents, so…"

Draco shrugged. "Mother and father have me every other Christmas and New Year's. They would hardly mind."

"You sure?"

Draco nodded. "Besides, Gregory Goyle's family is hosting the New Year's party in our neighborhood this year. I'd rather not be around for that."

Harry laughed out loud while a loving smile spread across Draco's lips.

"So, that's a yes," he said, cupping Harry's face in his hands.

"You'll spend Christmas and New Year's at the Burrow?" Harry said excitedly.

"Yes, and more importantly, with you," Draco smirked as he leaned in for a kiss.

Oliver yawned as he sat on the bench in the school gardens, trying to finish a book he had to read for Herbology. He'd decided to get a change of scenery, as the library bored him to death and the common room was noisy, and not to mention the fact that the Weasley twins were there at the moment. But judging from Oliver's yawns, he knew he wasn't going to get much of the book read.

"Hey, future Quidditch pro," a voice purred in his ear.

Oliver jumped right out of his seat and Marcus laughed.

"You have a habit of sneaking up on me," Oliver whined.

"It's just funny to see you get scared shitless," Marcus smirked.

"Baby, as much as I love you and enjoy your company," Oliver sighed as he sat back down and opened his book, "I need to get this book read."

Marcus peered over his boyfriend's shoulder. "That looks like boring shit."

Oliver groaned. "You're not helping."

Marcus grinned and took a seat next to him. "I wanted to ask you something."

Oliver looked up, vaguely interested as he was still trying to concentrate on his book.

"It's definitely better than that book, baby," Marcus said.

Oliver sighed and closed the book. He knew he wasn't going to finish it. Ever, at this rate.

"What is it?"

"You're planning to spend winter break here, right?" Marcus asked.

Oliver nodded in confirmation.

His parents had owled him a couple of days ago, telling him that they'd been sent to Romania on a month-long business trip. They'd been extremely apologetic, with his mother even offering to revoke the job to be with her son, who she was protective of ever since he'd been taken by Voldemort. But Oliver had insisted that they go, and that he spend the Christmas break at Hogwarts. His parents had been weary of leaving him alone, but Oliver assured him that he was being well taken care of by his friends and by Marcus, who his parents had finally grown to accept these past couple of weeks.

"Well," Marcus began. "Staying here will suck."

Oliver frowned. "Thanks for the encouraging words, babe."

Marcus laughed, making Oliver's frown deepen.

"What do you say you come spend winter break with me?" Marcus asked casually.

Oliver blinked, and blinked again.

"What?"

"You heard me," Marcus smiled.

"But… your parents?"

"I've asked them," Marcus said simply. "In fact, they insist on you joining us. They really want to meet you."

"Wow," Oliver breathed. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Marcus nodded. "Dead serious."

A smile appeared on the Gryffindor keeper's lips. "So I… I'll get to meet your family and all that."

"The whole Flint crew," Marcus chuckled. "If you can handle them."

"Are you sure you want me there?" Oliver asked uncertainly. "The whole time?"

Marcus nodded immediately. "I'm not daft. I wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't sure, would I? I want to spend the break with you, Oliver. It'll be shitty if you're here the whole time and I know you could be with me."

Oliver let out a chuckle filled with pleasant surprise and happiness. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around the Slytherin's shoulders.

"Is this a yes?" Marcus smirked.

"Well," Oliver said, pulling back as he suddenly remembered something. "The thing is…"

"What?" Marcus frowned.

"I kind of wanted to invite you to spend New Year's with me, with the Weasleys at the Burrow," Oliver said quickly. "I mean, I was invited, and I asked if I could bring you along, and they all said yes. I hear Draco might be there too… I could stay with you for the whole winter and we could just go to the Burrow for a couple days for Christmas and New Year's… But it's all right if you don't want to. I understand if you want to spend that time with family."

Marcus looked at Oliver for a moment before shrugging. "I think I can put up with the Weasleys for a few weeks if that means I get you for the whole winter."

"Are you sure?"

Marcus shrugged. "My family won't miss me. There are too many kids around as it is."

Oliver grinned. "I love you."

"I love you too. So, that's a yes, right?"

"Of course!" Oliver laughed as he hugged his boyfriend tightly, suddenly all too excited for the holiday to come.

The Great Hall was alive with chatter and excitement as students came in and out, particularly to and from the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables. Today was the Quidditch game to decide which house of the two would play against Gryffindor in the finals of the Quidditch cup, and which one would drop to play Ravenclaw in the battle for third place.

Tension was rising, especially on the Slytherins' part, as they took it as a threat to their pride. The Hufflepuffs, though determined to win, were slightly less crazed about the rivalry, content just to work hard and focus on the upcoming game.

At the Slytherin table, Terrence had his head in his hands.

"Oi, look alive," Marcus snapped at him.

Terrence raised his head and nodded, though his tight-lipped smile betrayed his nervousness.

"You'll do fine," Marcus said, frowning. "We'll win this."

"We have to," Blaise said, shrugging.

"Exactly," Urquhart chimed in, nodding furiously. "We're going to wipe the floor clean with those yellow robes, all right?"

The Slytherin table murmured in assent.

Terrence sighed.

"What's wrong?" Marcus asked straight up. "And don't think of bulshitting. Not now."

"I haven't caught the snitch in a while, that's all," Terrence confessed, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Who cares?" Marcus said. "It's just been bad luck. There's nothing to it. You focus on today and this game only, you got it?"

"But it seems like ages since I've actually beaten anyone to the bloody thing. Bloody Potter and Diggory, they're fucking legends at this point," Terrence groaned.

"Zat does not mean you are not an amazing seeker," came a voice from behind him.

Terrence turned around to see Viktor smiling at him.

"Well, you need to say that. You're my boyfriend," Terrence said softly.

Viktor shook his head. "I vould not lie ven it comes to Quidditch. I vatch you fly, all the time. You are a… how do you say… natural? You are a natural. You concentrate today and you can outfly Diggory."

Viktor then leaned in to press a reassuring kiss on Terrence's cheek. When the Slytherin raised his head, he looked considerably happier.

"I vill vatch you from the stands," Viktor said, getting up with a smile. "Vin or lose, I vill be there to congratulate you at the end."

Marcus mouthed a quick 'thank you' to the Bulgarian and Terrence smiled as he watched Viktor walk away.

"He's a catch, isn't he, Higgs?" Pansy smirked from his other side.

Terrence rolled his eyes.

"He's right, though," Marcus said firmly. "You can do this, okay? Stop with the doubts. It's unbecoming."

Terrence nodded. He could do this.

Just then, a rather large crowd of students walked into the hall. Leading them was Charlie Weasley, who had a casual arm around Cedric's shoulders. With them were the Weasley twins, Ron, Oliver Percy and Jack. They were all talking animatedly amongst each other, with the Weasley twins seemingly attempting to reenact a Quidditch play.

After laughing at a comment Oliver had made in response to Fred's sound effects, Charlie and Cedric went to the Hufflepuff table. While the rest of the Gryffindors went to their own table, Oliver veered off nervously to the Slytherin table.

"Oh, look, after chumming up with Diggory, he wants to butter you up, Marc," Adrian rolled his eyes.

Oliver sought Marcus out as he came closer. Though he was relatively comfortable with most of the Slytherins by now, he found that when they were all seated together, they looked like some exclusive gang.

"Hey," Marcus said, walking over.

Oliver smiled, the nervousness disappearing. "I just wanted to wish you good luck."

"Thanks, baby," Marcus said as he leaned over to give Oliver a chaste kiss.

Adrian snorted. "The Gryffindor captain is wishing the Slytherin captain good luck?"

Oliver shrugged lightly. "There's no harm in that."

"Right, except the fact that we're competitors? Ring a bell, Wood?"

Oliver sighed and looked away from the Slytherin as Marcus gave his friend a warning glare.

"I'd better go," Oliver said with a soft smile to Marcus.

"No, stay," Marcus said, though he knew Oliver couldn't possibly stay around the Slytherin table when such an important game was coming up, considering Oliver's status as a Gryffindor player.

"No, you need to prep your team," Oliver said.

With that, the scot made a quick retreat without another glance to the Slytherin table. He was instantly taken in by the twins and Percy, the latter of which shot a glare at Marcus and Adrian as if he knew they'd somehow made his friend less than happy.

Marcus wanted to yell at Adrian for his comments to Oliver but he decided against it so as not to stir an argument before such an important game. Instead he took a seat next to Blaise and tried to calm down.

Beside him, Blaise was talking to Warrington. Marcus frowned when he noticed a familiar glint in Blaise's eyes as he responded to what Warrington was saying.

"Hey Blaise, where's Finnigan?" Marcus asked.

Blaise glanced over at him and shrugged before he continued talking to Warrington. Marcus raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes.

"We better fucking win this," he muttered under his breath.

Harry and Oliver were sitting at the Gryffindor stands, the former having decided not to sit with Draco in the Slytherin stands considering what the game meant.

"You rooting for Marcus, Oliver?" Harry asked his captain curiously.

Oliver shrugged. "The best team will win."

Harry smiled. "Good attitude."

"Speaking of Slytherins," Oliver said, smirking at Harry. "I'm glad you and Malfoy seem to be doing well. I owe him my life, you know."

"He's a great guy," Harry said, with a happy smile. "I'm happy for you and Marcus too. He loves you a lot."

"I know," Oliver said then chuckled. "Who would've thought we'd end up like this, huh?"

Harry shook his head in wonder. "So many things have changed."

"Mhmm," Oliver said, taking a bite of his chocolate frog. "Oh, are you and Draco going to be at the Burrow this winter?"

"I am for the whole time," Harry nodded. "Draco's joining me for Christmas and New Year's. Percy invited you along, right?"

"Yep," Oliver confirmed. "We're just coming for New Year's though."

"You bringing Marcus?"

"Yeah," Oliver said, smiling.

"It'll be fun," Harry said, his eyes glowing.

Oliver nodded in agreement. "Well, except for when Fred and George start bringing out the enchanted snowballs."

Harry laughed, remembering the incident last year that got all of them soaked in freezing water.

"Who knows what they'll be doing this year."

When the game started, most of the supporters, who would usually be cheering and shouting by now, were almost tense with a nervous silence. There was so much hanging on this one game. Lee Johnson's voice rang clearly across the stadium.

"And they're off! Hufflepuff quickly takes possession of the quaffle with Susan Bones racing to the Slytherin hoops…"

"She's good," Harry commented, eyeing the Hufflepuff's movement.

Oliver nodded silently. Both Gryffindors often analyzed the games they watched together for future reference during their own training sessions, but hadn't watched a game together in a long while since Harry started watching many games in the Slytherin stands.

The crowds were tense with anticipation and nervousness, all of them glued to Lee Johnson's vivid commentary.

"Zacharias Smith is dispossessed of the quaffle by Urquhart, and now the Slytherins are on the attack! … Urquhart to Flint, back to Urquhart… now he's passed it to Zabini… Zabini shoots… and saved! A terrific save by Hufflepuff keeper Herbert Fleet."

"Hey, lads," Jack said, turning around from where he was sitting. "Want some?" he offered a packet of Honeydew's mini chocolates.

"I'm good," Oliver said, raising his half-eaten chocolate frog, while Harry took a couple.

"You never can resist chocolate, can you, Ollie?" Jack laughed.

Oliver shrugged guiltily. He generally did watch what he ate for the sake of fitness, but chocolate was always his weakness.

Harry chuckled as he munched on his own share of sweets. He reminded himself to get Draco to try some of these. He doubted the Slytherin had ever walked into Honeydew's with how much he looked after his body.

Meanwhile, Hufflepuff had scored the first goal. Oliver bit the inside of his lip and Harry spared a glance at his boyfriend in he Slytherin stands.

"The score is 10-0 now, ladies and gentlemen," Lee was saying. "Thanks to a great play finished off by Malcolm Preece."

As Blaise headed off with the quaffle, Anthony Rickett and Derrick Bole collided straight into one another, sending each other dazed and flying in random directions.

"Foul!" Madame Hooch called and Blaise screeched to a halt. "Penalty for both teams."

The crowd was still eerily quiet, though there were cheers coming here and there. It seemed like everyone was holding their breaths.

"So, one penalty each!" Lee said. "Hufflepuff takes theirs first, and it looks like Zacharias Smith is stepping up to take it."

The crowd seemed to inhale collectively as Zacharias shot the quaffle hard at one of the hoops. And then the Slytherin stands burst into cheers.

"Saved!" Lee cried. "Magnificent save by Miles Bletchley! The Slytherins have a chance to go level here!"

Oliver and Harry couldn't help the small smiles that escaped their lips.

"Marcus Flint steps up to take this one…"

Harry noticed many students in the Gryffindor stands shooting Oliver looks, but the scot paid them no mind as his eyes were fixed on Marcus, his expression neutrally focused.

"He fakes left, goes right, and… he scores! It's 10-10, Marcus Flint has leveled the playing field," Lee shouted.

Oliver let out a little breath of relief, though he tried his best not to look too happy. Harry gave him a knowing smile and Oliver chuckled.

"Nerve-wracking, huh?" Harry laughed.

"More than I thought it would be," Oliver admitted, taking another bite of his chocolate frog.

A few minutes later, the score was 30-30, with both teams creeping up on the score line neck and neck. The snitch had yet to be sighted as Terrence and Cedric were circling the pitch madly.

The crowds watched as Susan Bones hit Blaise hard on the head in a mistimed grab for the quaffle he had in his possession.

To Harry and Oliver's left, Seamus hissed as Blaise was sent spinning, his right hand clasping the side of his head.

"Foul!" Madame Hooch said with a blow of her whistle. "Penalty to Slytherin."

Urquhart took it and slammed it in the hoop to put Slytherin in the lead.

40-30.

Though one would think that the hit on the head would cause Blaise disorientation rather than focus, it seemed to have sparked something in him as he and the Slytherin chasers rallied together to get four goals in quick succession, making the score 80-30. Cedric was yelling at his beaters, who seemed off their game that day.

"Zabini, Flint and Urquhart are on a fiery run right now! Can they make it five goals in a row?" Lee Johnson shouted in excitement.

But just as Marcus moved into the scoring area with the quaffle, he was hit by two bludgers, one to the stomach and one to his left shoulder. While still flying forwards, he lurched backwards and then hung upside down on his broom for a couple of tense seconds before heaving himself back up and shooting the quaffle into the nearest hoop.

"Yes," Oliver found himself hissing determinedly under his breath.

"Only Marcus Flint could pull that off after being hit by two bludgers!" Lee Johnson was saying as Marcus shot a death glare and Rickett and O'Flaherty, the Hufflepuff beaters, over his shoulder.

And so the game went on. Zacharias Smith pulled two goals back for Hufflepuff and then Zabini missed a penalty. The crowds were starting to get noisy now, as the tension turned into a clear desperation to win from both the Slytherin and Hufflepuff students.

A few minutes later, Harry widened his eyes and leaned over to Oliver.

"Don't look there right away," he whispered, "But the snitch is right behind the Hufflepuff viewing tower."

Oliver's eyes darted there subtly and he saw, indeed, the fluttering golden wings of the tiny snitch hidden just behind where Professor Sprout was sat.

"I've always told you you had the best eye for the snitch," Oliver said, a tinge of pride in his voice.

"I was taught by the best," Harry grinned.

With bated breath, Harry and Oliver waited for any of the seekers to notice it. Now, a couple of other students saw it too and began whispering excitedly amongst themselves. Some Slytherins were even shouting out where the snitch is in hope that Terrence could hear them.

"Look, the snitch!" Ron shouted loudly a couple seats away from Harry. Hermione hushed him quickly.

"Ron, honestly!" she admonished, though there was a note of laughter in her voice.

The two seekers glanced around wildly, knowing that the crowds' whispers meant that the snitch had made an appearance.

It was Cedric who saw it first and he immediately darted in pursuit. Terrence wasted no time and was soon on Cedric's tail.

"And they're zipping towards the snitch right now!" Lee Johnson cried. "Cedric Diggory has the lead but Terrence Higgs isn't far behind… Meanwhile, Blaise Zabini has just scored another goal for Slytherin!"

Anthony Rickett shot a well-aimed bludger right at Terrence, but the Slytherin dodged it easily. He was gaining on Cedric now.

In the Slytherin stands, Pansy and Theodore had their hands clasped together tightly in nervousness.

"Come on, Terry," Pansy was whispering.

"Ow," Theodore said suddenly.

"What?" Pansy asked.

"You're going to break my hand," Theodore said sheepishly.

"Oh, hush," Pansy snapped before turning back to the seekers.

Back in the Gryffindor stands, Harry, Jack and Oliver were talking in hushed voices.

"Honestly, who would you rather face in the finals?" Jack asked his captain.

Oliver shrugged. "They're both great teams."

"No, but seriously," Jack pressed.

"Hufflepuff," Oliver admitted.

"'Cause you don't want to face Flint?" Harry asked tentatively.

"No!" Oliver said immediately. "I wouldn't let my relationship get in the way of Quidditch. I just think Slytherin are the stronger team, especially when Zabini's on a roll."

Jack and Harry nodded, both agreeing with him.

"Higgs is level with Diggory now…" Lee was shouting, his voice strained as everyone was feeling the tension now.

"Dang, Higgs is going damn fast!" Jack exclaimed as the front t ip of Terrence's broom just surpassed Cedric's.

The beaters were focusing on shooting bludgers in both seekers' ways now. And then, as the whole world seemed to slow down for a couple of seconds, Anthony Rickett sent a bludger that lunged right in front of the Hufflepuff seeker, causing Cedric to swerve to a halt.

Though Cedric quickly turned his broom back on course, Terrence had gained too much air space.

The snitch took a steep dive and Terrence lunged after it, snatching it right out of the air. He hung there for a moment, staring at his fist before an almost confused smile broke on his face.

The Slytherin students were on their feet, cheering and jumping in excitement. It was as if a weight had been taken off all of their shoulders.

Harry pounced on Draco from behind, causing the Slytherin to squeak in surprise.

Harry laughed. "You sounded like a mouse!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "If you tell anyone about that, I'll deny it."

"Congratulations," Harry said, smiling in amusement at the strands of ruffled hair on Draco's head, gained doubtless from numerous hugs he got from his housemates. It was rare that Draco was excited enough to even slightly mar his appearance.

"Why thank you," Draco said before pulling Harry close for a kiss. "But you know this means that it's Gryffindor against Slytherin in the finals?"

Harry nodded. "I don't care. Unless you do."

Draco chuckled. "Of course not. House rivalries are petty, are they not?"

"Very petty," Harry agreed.

Draco and Harry held each other lightly as they both laughed at the excited Slytherins jumping and rejoicing around them. Terrence was in the middle of the crowd, fiercely kissing Viktor, who had his arms wrapped around him.

"Snape will have a fit at the public display of affection," Draco commented, laughing lightly.

A few Slytherins passed Harry and Draco then, and shot suspicious glares at Harry.

"Get out of here, Gryffindor," one of them spat.

"Another word and I will hex you into next week," Draco snapped, his eyes dark.

The smaller boy's eyes widened as he hurried away.

"Sorry," Draco sighed. "I guess they're all a little hostile since we're up against you for the finals."

Harry nodded in understanding. "It's all right."

"Let's go inside," Draco offered.

"Don't you want to celebrate with your housemates?"

Draco shrugged. "I can do that later. I'd rather spend time with you."

"Aw, you're such a sap!" Harry laughed.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Another word and I'll hex you too. Are you coming or what?"

Harry kept laughing as he followed Draco inside.

Oliver maneuvered through the sea of students nervously. He wanted to congratulate Marcus but he didn't know how well that would be received.

To his right, he saw Charlie embracing a solemn-faced Cedric. To his left, he recognized a red and gold robe as Seamus tapped Blaise on the shoulder. The Slytherin immediately looked alarmed.

"Get out of here!" he said.

"What?" Seamus said, brow furrowing in confusion.

"You're a Gryffindor; my house won't take it well if you tag along while we celebrate," Blaise explained as Warrington jolted his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

"I just wanted to say congratulations," Seamus said quietly.

"Thanks," Blaise sighed, "Now leave before the Slytherins hound you," he added hurriedly before turning to Warrington.

Seamus glanced at Oliver with a sad and strained smile as he passed on the way back to the Gryffindor stands.

Oliver was about to turn around and follow the Irishman when he caught sight of Marcus, who immediately met his eyes.

"Oliver!" Marcus said, smiling.

Oliver was relieved to see no hostility in his boyfriend's eyes as the Slytherin bounded towards him, a wild grin on his face. When he got closer, though, his grin faltered when he saw Oliver's slightly troubled expression.

"You all right?" he asked in concern.

Oliver nodded immediately. "Yes. Fine. Congratulations!"

Marcus gave Oliver a sloppy kiss on the cheek and hugged him tight.

"Thanks, gorgeous," he said, his voice husky with content.

"Merlin, get out of here, Wood!" a voice yelled.

"Yeah, Wood, are you trying to beg Marcus to let you win the final already?" yelled another.

"Desperate Gryffindors!" someone hissed.

Oliver quickly pulled away from Marcus' embrace. "I should go."

Marcus wasn't listening. Instead, he was glaring at one of the Slytherins who had yelled out.

"Don't you fucking _dare_ speak to him like that," Marcus growled dangerously.

The small fifth-year looked visibly shaken but held his ground. "You can't expect the Gryffindor _captain_ to actually be happy you won! He's trying to manipulate you!"

Marcus sneered and immediately raised his fist. The boy shrank back. Before Marcus could land a punch, Oliver grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Don't! Please," he said. "It'll cause a fight. I should just leave."

Marcus sighed and turned to his boyfriend. "I don't want people speaking about you like that."

"I know… But some will inevitably because I'm the Gryffindor captain," Oliver said. "I should just leave you to celebrate with your housemates."

Marcus frowned, then sighed again. "Can I see you tonight?"

Oliver smiled. "Of course. Spare room at 11?"

"Looking forward to it."

Harry held Draco's hand tightly as the Hogwarts Express stopped to pick up the students who were leaving on it. As Draco would be picked up at the school directly by his parents, like many Slytherins would be, this was goodbye for them.

Harry tried to keep his tears at bay as he hugged the Slytherin tightly, reveling in Draco's familiar scent.

"I love you, Dray," he said into Draco's chest.

"I love you too," Draco said, his voice tight with emotion.

Around them, goodbyes were happening left and right.

Hermione and Ron were already on the train. Though Hermione wouldn't be staying at the Burrow for the break, she would be there for Christmas and New Year's.

Terrence and Viktor were kissing on the platform, as Viktor was headed to Bulgaria for a couple of weeks before he'd return to England.

Charlie and Cedric were locked in a tight embrace too, though Cedric would also be attending the Weasley New Year's party later in the break.

On the other end of the train, Seamus and Blaise were waving goodbye to the other Slytherins, who were standing on the platform. Pansy and Theodore had their hands clasped together, while Daphne was giving Adrian a quick kiss on the cheek before she hurried onto the train with Astoria. Oliver was there, too, standing with Marcus a little away from the other Slytherins, talking to each other quietly.

"I'll see you at Christmas, okay?" Draco said soothingly, noticing Harry's expression sadden at all the goodbyes happening.

Harry nodded. "You'll come over for dinner or just to hang out before then, though, right?"

Draco smiled warmly. "Of course. You won't be able to keep me away, Potter."

Ron yelled at Harry to hurry up. The green-eyed Gryffindor kissed Draco one last time before they parted ways.

"I'll miss you, love," Draco said, smiling sadly.

"I'll miss you too," Harry said as he hopped onto the train.

And within minutes, the train was moving away, and Harry waved at Draco until he could see him no more.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:**

Oliver's eyes widened as the Flint Mansion came into view: a large, white manor with beautiful peaking towers on top of a rolling snow-covered hill. On one side was a lake, which was now frozen over, and Oliver could see other houses nestled amongst the hills to the other side of the large expanse of water. Surrounding the mansion were beautiful gardens, their flowers dotting the white land in pinks and purples.

Oliver had never seen anything much like it. His own house was not terribly small, but it was modestly sized and located in a busy, crowded neighborhood, definitely not as grand and spacious as this one.

He and Marcus were walking from the apparition platform to the mansion, their luggage levitating along, with two house elves that worked for the Flint family, who had come to pick them up.

"It's beautiful," Oliver whispered as they got closer.

Marcus smiled. "I'm glad you think so. My mother has an obsession with getting the aesthetics right."

"Oh, it's more than right," Oliver said.

When they got to the front porch, which was warmly lit with crystal lanterns, Marcus opened the door and walked inside, with Oliver following closely behind.

Inside was a grand room that was just about the size of Oliver's entire house. It had staircases meandering from the second floor, and the entire room was decorated in white, with purple nuances.

"Mother? Father?" Marcus called as he shook the snow from his woolen hat.

Just then, Oliver heard a burst of giggles and laughs and the padding of light feet. Three small children appeared at one of the doorways, chasing each other into the room.

One of them, a girl of about 9 or 10, crashed into Marcus, who chuckled and picked her up.

"Marcus!" she cried happily.

"Hey, Arya," Marcus said, looking at her with a smirk. "Can't keep out of the dirt, can you?" he asked, glancing at the mud all over her expensively cut dress.

"We were playing tag," Arya giggled. Then she noticed Oliver. "Is that Oliver?"

Marcus nodded and put her down. "Oliver, this is my sister, Arya. Arya, this is Oliver. And these are my two cousins, Kathy and Tommy."

Oliver smiled down at the bubbly little brunette, who grinned up at him eagerly. She looked like Marcus a little bit, though her face was wider and her hair was bushy, reminding Oliver a little of Hermione. Lucia and Tommy were blond, obviously siblings or even twins, and though they didn't look too much like Marcus or Arya, they all had similar dark, hazel eyes.

"You're handsome!" Arya declared brightly.

Oliver laughed. "Thank you. You're very pretty yourself."

Arya's eyes brightened in delight. "Marcus talks about you all the time."

"Uh, Arya," Marcus interjected.

"Last summer he had a dream about you and – "

"All right, enough," Marcus said hastily, and Oliver grinned cheekily at his boyfriend. "Where are mom and dad?"

As the words came out of his mouth, a door upstairs was heard closing.

"There!" Arya said, pointing at the top of the staircase, giggling.

And, indeed, at the top of the staircase stood Mr. and Mrs. Flint, who immediately came downstairs to greet the two boys. Mrs. Flint was dressed in an elegant midnight blue dress with a sheer, white shall, while Mr. Flint was dressed rather like Draco would dress when out at Hogsmeade, in a black, turtle-neck jumper and dark pants.

"Welcome home, Marcus," Mr. Flint said, as Mrs. Flint rushed to embrace her son.

"Hey mom, dad," Marcus said comfortably, though with the amount of restraint expected of a Slytherin. He looked to Oliver then. "I'd like you to meet Oliver, my boyfriend."

Mrs. Flint nodded and smiled warmly at Oliver. "Of course, of course! So nice to have you with us, Oliver."

"Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Flint," Oliver responded politely.

"Oh, do call me Lucia," she said as she gave Oliver a brief embrace in greeting.

"I understand your parents are on a job in Romania," Mr. Flint asked, his expression neutral, though adequately courteous.

Oliver nodded. "Yes, they've been called on an Auror mission for the whole month."

"Ah," Mr. Flint replied simply. "I hope you find yourself adequately placed here."

"Of course," Oliver said, nodding to emphasize his point as best he could. "You have a beautiful house."

"You expected something different?" Mr. Flint asked, a subtle raise of the brow.

Oliver shook his head immediately. "No, no, I…"

"Oh, stop harassing him, Edmund," Mrs. Flint said to her husband. "You two go up to your rooms and make yourself at home."

Marcus nodded, shooting his father a hard but considered stare, before leading Oliver up the staircase.

"I'm sorry," Marcus sighed once they were out of hearing range. "My father's like that with everyone he's just met."

"It's all right," Oliver said, though he looked a little nervous. "Are they okay with… us?"

Marcus nodded fiercely. "They were skeptical at first, you being my rival and all, but I told them how much I love you and they're not ones to get in the way of that, despite what one may expect of them."

"Okay," Oliver said, letting out a little breath of relief.

"This is my room," Marcus said, opening the door to a large, white-walled room.

Oliver stepped in and looked around in wonder. In the middle of the room was a large, four-poster bed, with both he and Marcus' luggage already placed on either side.

"Um… Are your parents all right with us staying in the same room?" Oliver asked.

Marcus chuckled. "Lighten up, Wood."

"I'm just nervous!" Oliver said, though he was smiling. "I want them to like me."

"Who wouldn't like you?" Marcus said, giving Oliver a soft kiss on the cheek. "And to answer your question, they're fine with it, and even if they weren't, that wouldn't stop me."

Oliver laughed and wrapped his arms around Marcus' neck. "Love you."

"Love you too. Now, want to shower before dinner?"

Oliver nodded. "You can go first."

"Or we can go together," Marcus smirked.

"That works," Oliver chuckled.

After the two boys had showered and gotten dressed, Oliver sat on the bed while Marcus started unpacking a few things from his suitcase.

"Is there an owlery nearby?" Oliver asked.

"Down south," Marcus said. "Why?"

"Just in case I need to send some letters," Oliver said.

"Don't you have an owl?" Marcus frowned.

Oliver shook his head. "My owl died last year and I haven't gotten a new one."

"Oh," Marcus said apologetically. "Well, you can use the owlery any time you like. Or you could borrow Viper."

"Thanks," Oliver said as he got up, deciding he should probably unpack before he got too lazy to.

A few moments later, Oliver heard someone knocking on the door. Before he could go to open it, it burst open and Arya came bounding in.

"Hey, Oliver," she said, waving. She promptly jumped on their bed and sat cross-legged.

Oliver laughed. "Hey; are you looking for Marcus?"

"Where is he?"

"He's in the bathroom. He'll be out in a minute."

"All right," Arya said, smiling. "You play Quidditch, right?"

Oliver nodded. "Yeah, I'm on the Gryffindor team."

"Will you teach me the Wronksi Feint?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Oliver laughed. "Have you asked Marcus? He's got a better dive than I do."

"Marcus is always too busy to teach me," she pouted. "You will, though, right? Marcus says you're great and I want to be good for when I go to Hogwarts next year!"

Before Oliver could answer, the door opened again and in peaked a tall boy.

"Oh, sorry," he said, before seeing Arya. "Oh there you are. Lucia and Tommy are looking for you and they keep pestering me to find you."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"You're teaching me, Oliver!" she laughed as she sauntered out of the room, and Oliver could only chuckle at the young girl's enthusiasm.

He then saw that the dark-haired boy at the door had stayed, and nodded politely at him.

"I'm Oliver," he introduced himself.

"Right, Marcus' boyfriend?" the boy asked, his voice surprisingly deep.

Oliver nodded.

"I'm Daniel," he said, extending his hand, which Oliver shook. "I'm his cousin. I go to Durmstrang. Well, I went to Durmstrang."

"It's nice to meet you," Oliver said. "I'm sorry about Durmstrang. How are you faring?"

"My parents haven't decided yet where I will be enrolled," Daniel said easily. "For the time being I have a private tutor."

"Oh," Oliver said, nodding. "That's nice."

"Daniel," Marcus called as he walked out of the bathroom. "Didn't know you'd be around."

Daniel shrugged. "Mother insisted we come early for Christmas preparations. Though I heard you won't be there for New Year's?"

"No, Oliver and I are going to the Weasleys'."

Daniel smirked softly then looked to Oliver and gave him an up-and-down glance, which made the scot feel slightly uncomfortable.

"We need to get ready for dinner, Dan," Marcus said, his eyes narrowing. "Some privacy?"

Daniel nodded courteously and was out the door within seconds.

"Bastard," Marcus muttered.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked curiously.

"He was checking you out."

Oliver burst into laughter.

"It's not funny!"

"Are you jealous, Flint?" Oliver asked, smiling teasingly.

"No," Marcus said, moving his nose to nuzzle at Oliver's cheek. "Because he'll never have you."

"I'm yours, baby," Oliver said, capturing Marcus' lips in a soft kiss. Then he pulled back. "So, what was that dream you were having about me?"

Marcus groaned. "Arya's a pain in the ass."

Oliver chuckled and ghosted his lips seductively on Marcus' ear. "Tell me."

"No."

"Please?"

"No, stop asking!"

"Make me."

Marcus growled and pushed Oliver back onto the bed, attacking his neck with his mouth before moving to kiss him fiercely.

"Mmh! Marcus!"

Marcus didn't stop as he pressed against Oliver, who gasped in delight.

"Well, you told me to make you stop asking."

Harry smiled as he sat at the breakfast table at the Burrow with Ron and Ginny, reading his latest letter from Draco.

 _Hey love,_

 _I hope the journey was smooth and that you're safe at the Burrow. I just got to the Malfoy winter mansion, where I'll be staying for the break. In this envelope I've enclosed a map of where exactly it is. It's between Blaise and Pansy's houses in the northeast, and just across a lake from where Marcus, Daphne and Terrence are spending their winters._

 _It's been quite boring since I've reached here, though, and I miss you quite terribly. The weather is ghastly, but mother's set up a charm that creates the illusion of a clear sky. Pansy is sitting with me at the table as I write this and says hello. She's helping my mother with some decorations for a ball we're hosting later in the year. She, Blaise and I are having dinner tonight, though I'd much rather be having dinner with you (don't tell them that)._

 _I wish you were here with me. I hope we can see each other soon. Maybe we can meet for dinner some time in the week? I really want to see you. And even though I tease you all the time about these things, I do miss your pointless comments, obliviousness, and your thick-headedness too, believe it or not. I don't know what I'll do tomorrow morning when I don't wake up by your side. I've grown so used to kissing you goodnight and good morning._

 _I find myself getting sappier as I write, so I best stop now before I start channeling a Gryffindor._

 _I'll be waiting impatiently for your reply. I love you so much, Harry._

 _Your Draco_

 _P.S. The jumper you gave me is divine and a perfect fit. I'm wearing it right now, and I fear I will have to wear it every day when I'm not with you for it reminds me so much of your eyes._

Tears threatened at Harry's eyes when he finished reading. He wished the blond could be with him, but he knew Draco had to spend time with his own family. He found himself turning around at random times in the Burrow, wanting to say something to Draco, who he always expected to be somewhere near him, before he remembered that Draco wasn't there. He'd grown so used to having the protective blond close to him, smiling at him or reassuring him.

He looked down and smiled as he was greeted with the color of Draco's own eyes, as he too was wearing the grey jumper that reminded him of his boyfriend's gaze.

"Hey mate, can I borrow some of your ink?" Ron asked, raising his head. He was writing a letter to Hermione.

"Course you can," Harry said and Ron grinned in thanks. "How's 'Mione?"

"She's safe, thank Merlin," Ron said. "You know how muggle London can get this time of year, with the riots and all."

Harry nodded in relief. "Do you miss her?"

"Honestly? I miss her so much I don't even know if I can survive until when I see her at Christmas," he laughed nervously.

"I feel you," Harry admitted.

"Hey, nice ring," Ron said, eyeing Harry's ring finger. "Where'd you get it?"

Harry blushed. "Draco gave it to me."

"Mate, that's some sick silver!" Ron exclaimed, seeing how the band glimmered in the soft light of the room.

"It's beautiful," Harry agreed. Every time he looked at it, he felt warm, as though he could feel Draco's loving gaze on him. He smiled, wishing the blond were there with him.

Oliver and Marcus were huddled together on the couch of the living area in Marcus' bedroom, reveling in the warmth of the fireplace. Oliver had enjoyed himself at dinner with the whole family, as everyone was a lot friendlier than he'd expected them to be, including Mr. Flint, who, after his initial cold and proper manner, was animated in conversation, especially when he and Oliver got to talking about the latest news in the British Quidditch League.

"I told you my family would love you," Marcus teased, pressing a kiss to Oliver's cheek as the scot cuddled up against him underneath the woolen blanket they had draped across them.

"I like them," Oliver said, smiling comfortably.

"Arya loves you," Marcus commented, shaking his head in amusement.

"She's got so much energy," Oliver laughed. "She's awesome."

"Trust me, she's got _too_ much energy," Marcus said, rolling his eyes.

"You're only saying that 'cause you're an old man, Marcus," Oliver teased.

Marcus smirked. "I'll show you old man."

With that, he grabbed Oliver's wrists and pinned them either side of his head as he assaulted his mouth. A few moments later, both men were shirtless, and Marcus grinded down on Oliver, trailing kisses down the scot's chest.

"Still think I'm an old man?" Marcus asked, his breath hot on Oliver's abdomen.

Oliver gasped. He couldn't think coherently enough to respond.

"Please…"

Marcus smirked as he felt Oliver's hardness rubbing against his own. "Please what?"

Oliver groaned. "You know what. Please…"

Marcus chuckled and pressed a hand to rub at Oliver's length through his jeans, causing the scot to bite his lip until he drew blood. Marcus unbuckled Oliver's belt and his hand delved into the scot's boxers. Oliver's gasp turned into a moan as he arched off the couch.

"You like that, baby?" Marcus whispered against Oliver's flushed skin as his hand stroked slowly.

The door burst open.

"Fucking shit!" Marcus cursed, retracting his hand immediately and glaring at Arya who casually bounded inside with a grin on her face. "What the fuck is wrong with the locking charms in this bloody house?"

Oliver immediately brought the blanket up to cover him and Marcus below the waist.

"Hi, guys!" Arya said, taking a seat on the carpeted floor with a chocolate bar in her hand. "What's up? Oliver, do you know how to play wizard hop scotch?"

"Uh…" Oliver began.

"That's all right, I can teach you!" Arya said, smiling brightly.

"Arya, get out," Marcus snapped.

"But why?"

"Oliver and I want some time alone, that's why," he yelled. "Get _out._ "

"What were you doing?" Arya asked curiously. "Oliver looks really red. Do you need some water? Oh! The house elves make great hot choco – "

" _ARYA! GET OUT!_ " Marcus yelled.

Arya pouted. "You're no fun."

"I'll be even less fun when I hex you if you don't leave right now," Marcus snapped.

"Fine," Arya said, getting up. "Why are you guys not wearing shirts? It's freezing co –"

" _OUT!"_

Oliver chuckled when the door closed behind Arya, and his chuckles escalated into laughter when he saw Marcus' murderous expression.

"I like her," Oliver said, barely containing another burst of laughter.

"I will kill her one of these days," Marcus muttered.

Harry was just about to start writing his reply to Draco's letter when the doorbell rang. Ron got up to answer it.

"Seamus!" he exclaimed when he saw the Irishman looking back at him, his expression pained. "What's wrong? Come inside!"

Seamus nodded in gratitude and he stepped into the warmth of the Burrow. Harry and Ron noticed that he had his luggage with him.

Seamus looked tired and drained, his face a mess of anguish and confusion. He looked like he'd been crying.

"Shay, what's wrong?" Harry asked, getting up from where he was sitting. Ginny got up too in concern.

Seamus took a few ragged breaths to compose himself before facing Harry and Ron.

"Ron, remember when you told me I could stay here for the winter break if I wanted to?" Seamus asked shakily. His parents were on the same mission as Oliver's in Romania, and were therefore among the group of Aurors gone for the whole winter.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, but you said you were staying with Zabini, right?"

Seamus looked away in pain. "I caught him cheating on me."

"The bastard!" Ginny muttered in shock.

Harry's eyes blazed. "How?"

"I… I walked into the kitchens at his house and… and he was kissing Warrington," Seamus stuttered. "And Ron, I know this is last minute but… do you still have any room for me? I can't stay with Blaise…"

Ron nodded immediately. "Of course we do! You can definitely stay with us. No way I'm letting you go back to that bastard."

"Here, I'll take you upstairs to the spare room," Ginny offered and Seamus smiled gratefully at her.

Once they were gone, Harry's breathing was still hard and heavy as his eyes were seeing red.

"That fucking _bastard,_ " he hissed. "He promised me he wouldn't hurt Seamus! I made him fucking _promise,_ Ron!"

Ron's eyes were narrowed with anger too. "I can't believe Zabini. I actually thought he cared for Shay."

"So did I," Harry cursed. "I can't believe I helped them get together, and now this. I'm going to kill him when I see him."

"Isn't Malfoy with him?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded in realization before he went back to the table to write back to Draco.

 _Hey Draco,_

 _I really miss you too. I got to the Burrow safely. Thank you for the map, it really helps (since I'm hopeless with even the general geography of England). And, yes, lunch or dinner in a few days sounds marvelous._

 _I'm sorry I'm being really choppy and terse with things, I promise you I don't mean to be. The thing is, Seamus just stopped by asking to stay the winter with Ron because Zabini the fucking bastard asshole (pardon my language but it's necessary) cheated on him. I cannot believe the_ nerve _of him! Anyway, I know you're staying with him and I was wondering if maybe (please) you could talk to him about it? Or, rather, punch him for me, will you?_

 _Sorry. I wouldn't ask you to do that to your friend, but just… I don't know… ask him what he was thinking?! I just feel horrible that I practically helped him get Seamus only to have him treat him like this._

 _I know this letter is really lame but Ron's already calling me to come upstairs. I wish I could be with you now, too. I really, really, really, really, really, really, really miss you. And if my hand didn't already hurt, I would write more reallys because I really do miss you that much._

 _Love you so much,_

 _Your Harry_

 _P.S. I'm wearing my grey jumper too. It reminds me of you. x_

Draco frowned down at the letter, and either by coincidence or magnificent timing, the doorbell rang, and within seconds, a house elf appeared by Draco's side.

"Who is it, Lippy?" Draco asked.

"It is Mister Blaise Zabini, Draco sir," the house elf said.

Draco got up and rushed to the door to see Blaise standing there, patting raindrops off his shoulder as he reigned in his umbrella.

"Blaise!"

The dark-eyed boy looked up. "Hey, Draco."

"You asshole!"

Blaise's mouth hung open before he collected himself. Draco never swore at him that way. "What?"

"You cheated on Finnigan!"

Blaise sighed. "Oh, that."

"What do you mean _oh, that_?" Draco snapped. "You promised Harry you wouldn't!"

"Are you getting angry with me on behalf of him, then?" Blaise asked, an eyebrow raised.

"That's not the point, Blaise," Draco groaned. "Why did you do it? I thought you loved Finnigan."

"I don't fall in love," Blaise said dryly as he walked into the sitting room. Draco marched after him.

"What bullshit is that, Blaise?" Draco demanded.

"It's the truth," Blaise shrugged. Then he looked away, eyes flickering for a second before he sighed lightly. "I did promise Potter that I wouldn't hurt Seamus _intentionally._ "

Draco snorted. "You didn't think that cheating on him would hurt him?"

Blaise sighed heavily. "I apologized, but he walked out."

"Like he bloody well should have!"

"Look," Blaise said, his eyes cloudy with something that even Draco could not decipher. "I'm not used to being with one person."

Draco calmed down a little, though his eyes were still hard. "I know that. But you shouldn't have _cheated_ on him, Blaise!"

After a moment, Blaise sighed again. "I know. I made a mistake."

Draco blinked, and blinked again. This was the first time he'd heard Blaise admit to a mistake.

"You love him, don't you?" Draco asked, though it was a statement, not a question. "You fell in love with him and you got afraid of your own feelings, so you cheated on him. I'm reading this correctly, and don't try to tell me that I'm not."

Blaise gave his best friend a pointed look. "You're awfully irritating when you read minds. But yes, I think I do love him. I-I tried to make myself stop."

"By kissing _Warrington_?" Draco exclaimed.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "No, by flirting with Warrington. _He_ kissed _me._ "

"Did you kiss back?"

Blaise shrugged. "It happened too quickly. Before a second passed, Seamus was there."

Draco groaned. "I can't believe you cheated and got _caught._ "

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Look, flirting with Warrington didn't work, all right? I couldn't stop… loving Seamus." When the words had left his mouth, he looked away.

"What a mess you've made," Draco said, settling down on the couch, quickly losing interest.

"Don't tell me that," Blaise sighed. "I know that. What do I _do_?"

"Don't ask me," Draco said, frowning. "Harry sent me a letter and he wants to punch you, by the way. I suppose the whole Weasley clan wants to as well."

Blaise deflated in his chair. "Great."

 _Love,_

 _I just talked to Blaise about Finnigan. He feels horrible about it, though he only did it so he could battle his own feelings for Finnigan. He's in love, obviously. You see, Blaise doesn't do love, and I suppose Warrington was his way of trying not to become too attached to your friend._

 _Blaise has asked me what he should do, and I do not know what to tell him unless you, or Finnigan (if you talk to him), have any suggestions. Blaise really is sorry, though I understand Finnigan's reaction._

 _That's a lot of reallys. But I feel the same way. I can't wait to see you again. Blaise is driving me crazy already and it's not even one day into the break._

 _I love you,_

 _Your Draco_

Harry barely got to the last paragraph as his anger reached its boiling point. He'd had enough of stupid Slytherin ethics, or rather, lack of ethics, when it came to anything that involved mild responsibility. Sure, Blaise was a decent, well-mannered guy, but it seemed like most Slytherins had no consideration for their lovers. Harry thought back to Adrian, who had spouted out insults that had hurt Daphne, and then he remembered how Blaise had been known as the most promiscuous heartbreaker in Slytherin before he'd gotten together with Seamus.

Harry gritted his teeth but then found the voices in his mind shouting back at him.

 _Just because Blaise and Adrian made mistakes in the past doesn't mean that every Slytherin is like that!_ he reasoned, thinking of Draco. _Then again, Draco_ had _been rude to him in the past._

 _But that was before you got together!_ Harry shouted at himself inwardly.

His hands flew to his head as he tried to stop the stereotypical thoughts of Slytherins that threatened to invade his mind again.

He sat down and tried to calm himself down as he wrote his letter back to Draco, but found his rage bubbling as he heard the faint sounds of Seamus' sobs coming from the room next door.

 _Draco,_

 _Tell Zabini to go punch himself, actually. He's a right git (in Ron's words, and Charlie's and Ginny's and Percy's). And mine._

 _Is it a trait of most Slytherins to be rude as hell when it comes to relationships? No, I'm not talking about you, so don't get mad at me, but Seamus is crying in the next room and it's bloody well my fault for letting him even get together with Zabini and Merlin, I'm rambling._

 _I don't even know why you're friends with Zabini. But I guess you should go console him, or whatever you want to do, even though I hardly think he deserves consoling or even your friendship at this point. Merlin, why didn't you warn me that Zabini was capable of doing something like this? Slytherins may think of Gryffindors as their playthings, but when you start breaking hearts, it's not a fucking game._

 _Harry_

Draco rubbed a weary hand across his face. He saw with a heavy heart that Harry had omitted any _I love yous_ or _I miss yous,_ and even signed off _Harry_ instead of _Your Harry._

He had to act quickly lest the Gryffindor's anger spiraled out of control.

"It's midnight, Harry," Seamus commented, looking at the clock. "You should really get some sleep."

The two boys were sitting on the foot of Seamus' bed in the spare room, where Harry had tried his best to lift the Irishman's spirits. It had worked a little, as Seamus had stopped crying and did laugh at a couple things here and there, but he was nowhere near his usual bubbly self.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked uncertainly. "Will you be okay?"

Seamus nodded, though his expression was tinged with sadness. "I'll be fine. Besides, we need to be up early tomorrow if we're going to help Ron pick a Christmas tree," he laughed.

Harry chuckled, remembering their attempt at cutting down a tree last year, resulting in Ron's sprained wrist and them all being buried three feet under snow.

"If you need me, just knock," Harry said as he left Seamus, who smiled at him gratefully.

When Harry got into his room, he walked to the bed, looking down at his hands. When he turned to reach for his suitcase, he froze when he saw the figure standing beside the fireplace.

"Draco!" he gasped.

The blond Slytherin smiled at him.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked.

"You gave me the floo identification for your room," Draco said softly.

There were a few seconds of silence before Harry rushed across the room and wrapped himself around the blond in a warm embrace. They stayed like that for a while as they both reveled in each other's presence.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, sighing.

"For what?" Harry asked, confused.

"For Blaise," Draco explained.

Harry's eyes widened in realization as it hit him why the Slytherin was there.

"Oh, Draco," he said regretfully. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Merlin, I'm sorry. I was just so angry…"

Draco placed a soft finger to Harry's lips and shook his head. "It's all right. Blaise was an arse, and you were right to be angry. He is my friend, though, and for that I'm sorry for what he did to Finnigan."

"No, you don't need to be sorry for that," Harry said, looking up into Draco's grey gaze. "It's not your fault. I'm sorry that I made it seem like you shouldn't be friends with him."

Draco fell silent before his expression morphed into his classic smirk, which Harry found irresistibly cute.

"Besides," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood. "Ron does some horrible stuff too now and then, and he'll always be my best friend."

Draco laughed.

"I don't want the whole Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry to get in the way of us, especially since our friends' groups are so different," Draco said seriously, holding onto Harry's arms tightly.

"Me neither," Harry insisted. "I don't want to lose you over something stupid like that. I don't want to lose you over _anything._ "

Draco smiled then and Harry crushed their lips together in a hungry kiss.

"Merlin, you're intoxicating," Draco whispered into the kiss.

"I've missed you so much," Harry replied.

Draco grinned as he touched his forehead to Harry's. "And it's only been a day."

Harry laughed.

"Stay the night?" Harry asked hopefully.

"But the Weasleys…"

"Don't worry," Harry insisted. "I'll set a silencing charm, and you can be gone tomorrow morning so neither Weasley or your parents need to know that you've been here."

Draco smirked. "You're getting quick with the schemes, Potter."

"What do you expect? I learned from the best," Harry chuckled.

"Why would we need that silencing spell, though?" Draco asked innocently, though his eyes narrowed with mischievousness.

"Oh, I don't know," Harry said, feigning ignorance.

Draco's smirk widened as he took out his wand. "Silencio."

Harry bit his lip in anticipation. They closed the space in between them as their lips met in a hungry kiss. Draco laid Harry back down on the bed, fumbling with his shirt. Harry, in a similar state to Draco, though a lot less restrained, grabbed at Draco's dress shirt, causing several buttons to fly off.

"Sorry!" Harry squeaked, though it turned into a moan as Draco began feasting at his neck.

"Merlin, Harry…" Draco moaned.

Harry struggled with his belt buckle, and after a few frustrating moments, both boys were naked.

"You're so hot," Harry said, looking up at his lover and taking in his lean, muscled form, eyes blinded by lust.

Harry cried out when Draco touched him. "Draco, stop teasing… please…"

Draco grinned and complied.

A few minutes later, Harry was fisting the sheets as Draco hit that spot inside him that turned his blood to burning fire.

"I love you," Draco whispered, his voice strained as he pressed kisses onto Harry's chest as the boy underneath him panted for breath in his pleasure.

"I love you too," Harry cried, seeking Draco's mouth out for a fierce kiss as he reached his climax, with Draco following just seconds after.

They lay together in the afterglow, warm and safe under the thick blankets, with Draco draping a protective arm around Harry's chest.

"I'm so glad you came here tonight," Harry said sleepily.

Draco chuckled lightly. "So am I, love."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19:**

Oliver's nose was pink as he scrunched up his face in distaste of the cold weather. The snow was falling more heavily that day, and the scot was dripping wet with ice as he stepped onto the terrace of the mansion.

"Mister Wood," the house elf, Vespy, greeted him at the door politely.

"Thanks, Vespy," Oliver smiled as he stepped into the warmth indoors.

He walked up to Marcus' room and saw that the Slytherin was still gone. They'd decided to spend lunchtime apart, with Oliver heading north to see Jack for a meal, while Marcus caught up with Terrence and Adrian who lived nearby across the lake.

Oliver had had a great time with Jack as they talked about the latter's recent conquests and the upcoming Quidditch final between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Though Marcus had invited Oliver to join him with Terrence and Adrian, Oliver had thought it better that he decline. He still didn't feel entirely comfortable with Marcus' friends, Adrian especially. It had been a little bit of a relief to see Jack, who was familiar and friendly, as he'd spend so much time with Slytherins recently.

When Oliver entered the bedroom, he instantly noticed a letter that was placed on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He recognized the Weasley seal on the envelope and immediately rushed over, throwing his bag on the bed in the process.

He opened the letter, knowing already that it was from either Percy or Charlie, as Oliver had sent a letter to them wishing Charlie a happy birthday earlier that morning.

 _Hey Ollie,_

 _How is everything? I hope Flint is treating you well and that you're having a lovely time. Owl me if you need anything. We miss you here at the Burrow, and Charlie, who's sitting next to me, says, and I quote, 'thank you for the birthday wish, my favorite keeper!'_

 _By the way, Charlie's gone and been a clumsy fool and sprained his hand on his birthday, so that's why it's me writing back and not him._

 _Anyway, I know this is a little bit last minute, but mom and dad are throwing a little dinner party tonight for Charlie's birthday. I know you've already told me that you'd be busy the entire week, and I've told mom and Charlie that as well. But I thought it wouldn't hurt to tell you that if you suddenly do become free, the invite's still open._

 _Miss you loads, and please don't procrastinate on the writing back (I know you, Wood)._

 _Love,_

 _Percy_

Oliver smiled as he read the letter, rolling his eyes and chuckling. He regretted that he couldn't make Charlie's birthday dinner, but Marcus' family was having a special home cooked dinner that night, and he'd already told his boyfriend that he hadn't had any plans.

So he wrote back to his best friend informing him that yes, he was fine, and that no, regretfully he can't make Charlie's dinner and that wow, Charlie was so clumsy, and finally, that no, he was not that bad a procrastinator.

He laid the letter down on his nightstand and reminded himself to go to the owlery later on to send it off. He really did need to get a new owl one of these days.

Oliver got up off the bed and headed for the bathroom to take a shower. As he was finishing up, he heard noises in the bedroom. He quickly got dressed and came out. He stopped uncertainly when he was met with a glaring Adrian Pucey standing in the middle of the bedroom, his hands fisting through a notebook that he'd pulled out of Oliver's bag.

"What are you doing?" Oliver asked.

"What the _fuck_ is this, Wood?" Adrian sneered darkly, waving the paper he had clenched in his hands.

"What are you talking abo – " Oliver stopped when he realized that Adrian was holding his private Quidditch notebook. The one he'd taken notes on while he was discussing tactics with Jack. "Why did you look around in my things?"

"That's not the fucking point!" Adrian yelled. "What the fuck is this?"

"Those are my Quidditch notes!" Oliver said, his face furrowed in confusion and disbelief.

Adrian laughed harshly. "Some fucking notes, Wood."

Just then, Marcus and Terrence walked in. Oliver instantly looked to his boyfriend, whose eyes lit up as they always did when he laid eyes on Oliver.

"Hey, babe, how was your da- " Marcus frowned when he saw Adrian's glare and Oliver's troubled frown. "What's going on here?"

"Look at this," Adrian snapped, shoving the notebook, opened at a page, into Marcus' hands.

"Hey, that's private!" Oliver protested. Those were _his_ bloody Quidditch notes that Adrian was shoving into the hands of the bloody Slytherin captain!

But as Marcus scanned the paper quietly, his eyes darkened and Oliver felt his heart drop.

" _Pucey – weak left dive, Urquhart – always shoots to the right?_ " Marcus read off the paper. His eyes blazed with anger and Oliver was shocked to see most of it directed towards him. "I fucking _told_ you that! I fucking _told_ you that Ade had a weak left dive and that Urquhart threw like that, on the night I had a shitty team practice! You didn't know any of this shit before I fucking _told_ you!"

"Marcus, I –" Oliver was quickly feeling helpless as now, Marcus, Adrian and Terrence were regarding him with either pure anger, or, in Terrence's case, detached coldness.

"Shut up," Adrian hissed. "How dare you use what Marcus told you in _confidence_ against him?"

"I wasn't using it against him, I swear," Oliver said, looking at his boyfriend, pleading for him to understand. "I didn't show Jack that page of the notes! I didn't show anyone! It's my _private_ Quidditch notebook. I know I shouldn't have jotted that stuff down after you told me that night, but I just, I…"

Oliver trailed off, his anxiety making him speechless.

"For all we know, he probably told his entire team and has an elaborate strategy planned out," Adrian scoffed at Marcus. "This is what you get for trusting a Gryffindor. And their Quidditch captain at that. You really thought he was going to keep his mouth shut if it could give him an advantage in the finals?"

Oliver was still staring at Marcus desperately, but any warmth or love had vanished from Marcus' gaze to be replaced by a gaze Oliver knew all too well – it was the way Marcus used to look at him, back when they were rivals who hated each other more than anything. The realization hit Oliver like a ton of bricks. It was exactly like how it used to be.

"I swear," Oliver repeated, his eyes locked on Marcus, who was the only one whose opinion he cared about. "I didn't mean to betray your trust. I wouldn't do that."

"You're the Gryffindor captain, Oliver," Marcus said icily. "And everyone knows how desperate you are to win the cup this year."

Oliver's mouth hung open in disbelief. "You honestly think I'd sink so low as to _use_ you?"

"You nearly had Harry killed with all that Firebolt business!" Marcus yelled. "You'd stop at nothing to win!"

Oliver froze. He'd told Marcus about that in shame, admitting to his boyfriend that he'd regretted what he'd done. It hurt to know that Marcus would throw that right back at his face.

"Is that what you think of me?" Oliver asked, hating himself for the way his voice broke.

Marcus scoffed and looked away; Oliver's heart broke.

The scot stood there, surrounded by three Slytherins who had many a time taunted him, who had many a time humiliated him and beaten him up and spouted insults at him. He couldn't believe he actually thought he could feel safe holidaying here and that Marcus would protect him. He'd never felt more alone. And it was his own fault.

Marcus scrunched up the paper and threw it across the room in his anger.

"Now I fucking remember why I used to hate you so much, Wood," he muttered.

Oliver's eyes blazed with indignation, determined not to crumple now when he'd never backed down from a fight with Marcus before. They'd argued countless times before. Hell, their rivalry was once based on insulting each other every chance they got.

"Maybe next time, don't sell your team's secrets like that; ever thought of that?" Oliver snapped. "What did you expect me to do? Obliviate myself?"

Marcus' eyes darkened into a dark hazel that Oliver had never seen before.

"Go fuck yourself, Wood."

Before Oliver could respond, he found himself slammed onto a wall by Adrian.

Oliver let out a pained groan as his cheek collided heavily with the hard, brick wall. He could feel the skin tearing underneath the rough surface.

If this had happened when the year just began, Oliver would have struggled or fought back like he always did. But now, Oliver's first instinct was to look to Marcus; Marcus who always protected him, Marcus who would always reassure him and make him feel loved.

And in that moment, he expected Marcus to rage at Adrian and pull the Slytherin off him. He truly expected it.

But Marcus simply regarded Oliver with an ice-cold stare as his boyfriend looked at him desperately as his bleeding cheek was held up against the brick wall.

Marcus' eyes narrowed at Oliver, directing a laser beam of pure anger towards the scot one last time, before he turned around and walked out the door.

Oliver's heart shattered.

Adrian moved his face so that his breath was hot on Oliver's ear.

"Don't you fucking _dare_ mess with Marcus anymore, you got it?" he hissed before pushing himself off Oliver and stalking out the door after Marcus.

Oliver instantly crumpled to the floor, his breathing ragged and harsh. Through his tears he looked up to see Terrence looking at him with an unidentifiable expression. It only lasted a split second before the golden-haired Slytherin walked out the door too, leaving Oliver alone.

"Harry!" Draco laughed, catching his boyfriend as he tripped over his skates yet again.

Harry let out a half chuckle half groan as he looked up at Draco's twinkling eyes.

"I'm hopeless at this!" Harry complained.

"You'll get better," Draco assured him, helping him to his feet.

They were both spending the afternoon ice-skating on the lake next to Draco's winter mansion. They wanted to spend some time together before Draco would join Harry at the Burrow later that day for Charlie's birthday.

"How'd you become so good?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco took Harry's hand and led him slowly across the frozen lake, careful to go slow in case Harry's horrible sense of balance felt like bringing them down again.

"When I was little, the families in this neighborhood would have formal parties around wintertime," Draco explained. "It usually required ice skating in place of dancing. Mother made sure I knew how to skate at an early age."

"Wow," Harry said as he wiped a dot of snow from his cheek. "That sounds like a fun kind of party. Do they do them anymore?"

Draco's expression saddened as he shook his head. "No, ever since Voldemort came to power they've stopped."

Harry frowned in understanding. "I'm sorry."

Draco quickly masked his momentary sadness with his classic smirk that made Harry's heart melt.

"It's all right," he shrugged easily. "Besides, once we beat him, we'll be free, and maybe I can host one of those ice-skating parties for myself."

Harry laughed. "I'd love that, except you'd have to leave me off the invite list, 'cause I'd just fall flat on my face."

"That would be rather amusing," Draco smirked.

"For you, sure!" Harry retorted, laughing. "That would look terrible, though. You being all classy and sophisticated and perfect, then me falling over myself every three seconds."

"Well, that wouldn't look as terrible as you think it will," Draco said, smiling.

"Why not?" Harry rolled his eyes in amusement.

Draco shrugged. "You're perfect too."

Harry let out a delighted chuckle. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Must you make a fuss over every compliment I hand you?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I must when you're being a sap, love," Harry teased, pressing a quick kiss to Draco's cold nose. "Have I told you how cute you look right now, by the way?"

Draco grimaced. "I'm not _cute._ "

"Sure you are," Harry laughed, maneuvering himself to stand in front of Draco, taking his hands in his. "Your cheeks are blushing 'cause it's so cold, and your hair is kind of ruffled even though it's still perfect as ever…"

A smile spread across Draco's lips and he captured Harry's own in a tender, loving kiss.

"As I said, _you're_ perfect as ever," Draco said.

"Aw, look!"

Harry and Draco turned to see Pansy skating towards them, waving happily. Behind her was Theodore, who had his hands deep in his pockets to shield from the cold.

Draco groaned inwardly and Harry laughed at his boyfriend's expression.

"Be nice!" he laughed.

"They have a rather irritating knack for interrupting us," Draco sighed.

"Harry, Draco," Pansy greeted them both with heartfelt hugs.

"Hey, Pansy," Harry smiled at her. Though they'd had their major differences in the past, Harry had grown to like the black-haired girl over the past couple of weeks. She was fiercely loyal to those she deemed her friends, and since he and Draco's reunion, she'd been kind and sincere towards him.

"All right, Draco, Harry?" Theodore greeted them, wincing a little as a cold wind blew past them.

"You're looking cold," Draco commented.

Theodore nodded, frowning. "I hate this time of year."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, only you would say that, you grumpy snake."

Harry chuckled.

"Forgive him, Harry," Pansy said, giggling. "He hasn't warmed up to the beauty that is Christmas-time yet."

"Nor will I ever when the weather's this horrid," Theodore said glumly.

"Don't be a spoil sport now," Pansy said affectionately. "Anyway, Harry what are you doing down here? I thought you were spending the winter with Ron's family?"

"Yeah, I just came to spend some time with Draco here," Harry said, while Pansy cooed and Draco glared.

"Is Blaise not with you?" Draco asked, and Harry looked up at the question.

Theodore shook his head. "I stopped by his house this morning but the house elves said he'd gone out. I couldn't get a hold of him."

Pansy sighed lightly. "He's handling this entire thing with Finnigan quite terribly, poor thing."

"Well, he did cheat on him," Harry couldn't stop himself from saying.

"Oh, I know that," Pansy said immediately. "It was a horrid thing of him to do, but he's Blaise."

"And that makes it okay?" Harry asked, though his voice was only curious, not malicious.

Pansy looked to Draco, who sighed.

"I think she just means that Blaise has always been like that," Draco explained. "It doesn't make it all right by any means, but Blaise has never been in a stable relationship, so he doesn't know how to handle himself."

Harry frowned a little but nodded, understanding their point despite his urge to condemn Blaise absolutely.

"Don't worry yourself over it, love," Draco said, pressing a kiss into Harry's hair.

"Enough chit-chatting," Pansy said. "Let's skate!"

"I can barely move my limbs, Pans," Theodore said, gritting his teeth against the cold.

Pansy rolled her eyes, then grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him along. "Fine, I'll skate with Harry then."

"Parkinson," Draco drawled.

"Oh, you won't mind if I steal your boyfriend for a couple of minutes!"

"But I can't skate!" Harry protested.

"It's not that hard!" Pansy insisted.

But after half an hour, Pansy finally gave up and hauled Harry to his feet one last time, still giggling with amusement.

"Gosh, you are terrible," she said in disbelief.

Harry pouted. "I told you."

Pansy laughed.

Draco skated over from where he'd been seated with Theodore on the nearby bench.

"Have you finished with my boyfriend?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Yes, you protective fool."

"Fine," Draco said lightly as he took Harry's hand. "Go be with your own boyfriend before he freezes to death."

Pansy chuckled as she waved goodbye and bounded over to Theodore.

"My arse hurts," Harry commented, frowning.

"Why?" Draco asked in concern.

"I've fallen too many times."

Draco burst into laughter.

"Let's head to my terrace. My house elves make good hot chocolate, and you can get a compress for your backside," Draco offered with an amused smile.

"That sounds perfect."

That evening, Harry sat in the kitchens of the Burrow with Draco, Ron and Seamus. As he, Ron and Seamus were struggling with the oven and the various cooking equipment, Draco was sat on the kitchen island, reading a book.

When Molly had asked Ron if he could handle the task of baking the cake for Charlie's party, Ron had agreed, thinking it wouldn't be too hard to do.

Oh, how wrong he was.

"Ron!" Seamus groaned.

"Sorry, mate!"

"That's the fifth time something's exploded," Harry exclaimed. "Aguamenti!"

The fire that had started on the stove and burned part of Seamus' apron was quickly doused.

"I honestly don't know how we keep getting this wrong!" Ron said as he took another look at the cookbook they were using.

"Are you sure this is four ounces?" Seamus asked, looking at the measuring cup suspiciously.

"No," Ron said guiltily.

"Ron!"

"Sorry! I'm not good at this!"

"Clearly!"

"I wish Hermione was here," Harry groaned.

Ron let out a heavy sigh. His face was powdered in flour and his hair might as well have been the Polish flag with nearly half of it white and half of it red.

"No, look," Ron said determinedly. "We're going to bake this bloody cake and it's going to be delicious. Or mum will kill me. And if she kills me, then… Well we're just going to bake this cake, okay?"

Harry and Seamus nodded as they started over again, measuring the ingredients as carefully as they could.

Before long, an explosion sounded again.

"Bloody hell!" Ron yelled at the oven. "This thing is cursed, I'm telling you!"

"Ron?" a voice came from the doorway.

"What!" Ron nearly screamed.

Ginny, who had popped her head into the kitchen, frowned. "I see you're not getting any better at this baking thing. Anyway, I have a letter for Seamus. An owl just delivered it."

Seamus thanked Ginny, who bounded back into the living room, before opening the letter. He frowned as he read it, then promptly threw it into the nearby fireplace.

"What was that?" Ron and Harry asked simultaneously. Draco looked up knowingly.

Seamus shrugged, though everyone could see the haunting sadness hiding behind the usual cheerfulness of his gaze.

"It was Blaise."

"Oh," Ron said, biting his lip awkwardly. "Is everything all right?"

"He asked for my permission to come here to talk to me," he said, frowning a little.

"Did Blaise say anything to you, Draco?" Harry asked his boyfriend.

Draco shook his head. "I haven't spoken to him for days. He's been hard to get a hold of."

Seamus shrugged again. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. Let's forget about it. We have a cake to bake, anyway."

"At this rate, we'll be baking for Charlie's fortieth birthday," Harry sighed.

Ron glared at Harry as he whisked eggs in with a bowl of milk. But he accidentally knocked over the bottle of milk beside him, sending the entire carton spilling onto Harry's lap.

"Mate... I'm really – "

"Sorry, I know," Harry waved in dismissal.

"Can't we just buy a cake?" Seamus suggested innocently.

"My mother wants something homemade!" Ron protested, sighing in frustration.

"We're doomed," Harry concluded, holding his head in his hands.

Draco raised his head from his thick book.

"What kind of cake?" he asked.

"Chocolate's Charlie's favorite," Ron shrugged.

"I know a recipe," Draco shrugged.

"You do?" Harry asked, eyes widening.

Draco nodded simply. "I don't know if it would be your cup of tea, but – "

"I don't care!" Ron exclaimed. "Can you show us?"

"I make it with my mother every year for Christmas."

"Perfect!" Seamus said.

"Well, will you help?" Ron asked, eyes imploring.

Draco frowned uncertainly.

"Please?" Harry asked, sticking a trembling bottom lip out.

Draco sighed; Harry knew how to make him comply. Ron quickly ushered a surprised Draco out of his seat, pushing him to the stove.

"I'm not cooking without an apron," Draco said haughtily.

"Take mine!" Seamus said instantly, untying his and handing it to Draco.

Draco nodded simply in thanks.

A few moments later, the four boys in the kitchen, for the first time that whole day, looked like they were getting somewhere with their cake.

"Don't stir it too fast, it's cake batter, not a hurricane," Draco told Ron dryly.

Ron complied immediately.

"Damn, that tastes good," Seamus said, sticking his finger in the batter and licking it off.

"For Merlin's sake, Finnigan," Draco said, grimacing. "Here, the mold's ready, so just pour it in."

Seamus followed Draco's close instructions, and soon, the cake was in the oven.

"It smells really good," Harry said, grinning brightly at his boyfriend.

"Of course it does," Draco said confidently.

Harry chuckled.

"Malfoy, uh…" Ron began, looking at the Slytherin sheepishly. "Thanks a lot. We would've been doomed without your help."

Draco shrugged. "Not a problem."

"You're not such an arrogant rich boy after all," Seamus chuckled lightly.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, Finnigan, that I am."

Harry rolled his eyes but leaned up to press a loving kiss on Draco's cheek.

"Thank you, baby."

Draco's eyes softened immediately when he glanced down at Harry.

"You're welcome, love."

Oliver breathed heavily, his hands covering his face as he sat crouched on the floor with his back against the wall. He'd tried to pull himself together but the hurt he felt couldn't be stemmed. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid.

 _You actually thought Marcus would take your side against his friends?_ he thought miserably. _He's a Slytherin through and through, the bloody captain of the Slytherin team, and you're the captain of the Gryffindor team. Of course he wouldn't defend you over his own housemates!_

It was true, though, Oliver had taken note of the weaknesses Marcus had mentioned to him one night when he'd come to their spare room after a difficult practice. But Oliver never meant to use the information maliciously. He was just noting it down for future reference. He never wanted to manipulate Marcus to further his own success in Quidditch.

 _But Marcus thinks that._

Had Marcus been lying when he'd told Oliver that he didn't believe at all in Adrian's own thoughts that a Slytherin couldn't be with a Gryffindor?

 _But Marcus loves me. He saved me._

 _No,_ another voice screamed at him, _He hates me. He said so himself, that he remembers why he used to. That means it's true. He really did hate me, a lot. Maybe he still does._

Oliver's heart clenched painfully at the thought. Sure, he used to hate Marcus too, but not anymore. Since he started falling in love with him, Oliver never looked back. All the things that he used to hate about Marcus now he loved and appreciated.

And Marcus had thrown that love back in Oliver's face by bringing up the hatred that once stood between them. He didn't even defend him, or trust him, or even save him from being completely humiliated when Adrian had honed in on him.

He'd stood by and watched Adrian slam his face up on a wall. He'd seen him bleed, and walked away.

Oliver raised a hand to trail across his cheek. The small cut had stopped bleeding, but there was still dried blood lining his cheek.

"Oliver!"

Oliver raised his head and saw Arya standing at the doorway, looking at him in shock. She came running to him instantly.

"What happened?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with worry.

"Nothing," Oliver said, trying his best to smile as he hiccupped through the tears threatening to spill anew.

"Why are you crying?" Arya asked, her face twisted with anguish. "And you're bleeding too! Oliver, what happened!"

Oliver shook his head and sniffled, trying his best to compose himself. "It's nothing, Arya. Don't worry about it."

"I'll get you a band aid!" she said, nodding quickly as she got up and rushed to the door.

She halted to a stop as she bumped into the person coming in.

"Marcus!" she said. "Look, Oliver's bleeding!"

Oliver instantly looked down, not wanting to meet Marcus' gaze. He suddenly felt too vulnerable.

"Go to the other room, Arya," Marcus said softly. Oliver couldn't place his tone.

"But I'm getting a band aid for Oliver!" Arya said, sounding surprised.

"I'll take care of it, just go," Marcus said.

Arya huffed but complied, probably because Marcus eyed her with a glare.

When the door clicked shut, Oliver was still trying hard not to break into sobs, though he knew his face was wet with tears. He would not cry. Not now.

After a few tense moments, Oliver heard Marcus' footsteps approach him.

"Oliver," he whispered.

Because he could bear it no longer, the scot raised his eyes, a mess of pain and anguish. When Oliver's eyes met Marcus', he saw that the Slytherin was not looking at him with hatred anymore, but with disbelief and regret. It should have made Oliver feel relieved, but instead it just filled him with anger.

"Merlin, Oliver…" he said. "Fuck, that cut. Here, let me –"

"No," Oliver said softly, an edge to his voice. He jerked away from Marcus' hand that was raised to touch his cheek. "Please go away."

"Oliver… Please, I didn't mean to…"

"Really?" Oliver asked in disbelief.

"Oliver, please, let me expl – "

"You didn't stop Pucey!" Oliver cried, unable to control his anger any longer. "He hurt me and you just stood there!"

"I'm so sorry," Marcus said, tears escaping his own eyes now. "I was just so angry… I should have stopped him… Oliver I'm so sorry."

Oliver looked away, because as much as Marcus had hurt him, he couldn't bear to see the pain in his boyfriend's own eyes.

"I thought that it didn't matter what any of the Slytherins think of me, or of what your family thinks of me, because you'd always be there for me, and you'd always love me," Oliver said softly. "But you ganged up on me just like you used to."

"I do love you," Marcus breathed instantly.

Oliver shook his head. "Maybe Adrian was right."

"What?" Marcus demanded.

"Maybe when two people are Gryffindor and Slytherin rivals… it just can't work," Oliver said, his voice soft and broken. "We're too used to hating each other."

"No," Marcus said desperately. "Don't say that. I love you and you love me."

Oliver raised his head to smile sadly at Marcus. "Maybe we're better enemies than lovers, Flint."

"No!" Marcus shouted, his voice breaking. He rushed to Oliver and grabbed his arms. "Don't call me that. It's Marcus, remember? I'm your Marcus, and you're my Oliver."

Oliver barely contained a sob as he shook his head. "Please, let me go."

"No."

Oliver began struggling then, but Marcus was as strong as if not stronger than Oliver, and he held him tight.

"Please," Oliver said desperately. "I just need to be with… with my friends."

After weeks surrounded by Slytherins, Oliver desperately needed to be surrounded by those he knew loved him.

"Please don't leave me," Marcus whispered desperately. "I'm so sorry. You're everything to me."

"Let me go," Oliver said fiercely. The steadfastness in his voice seemed to jostle something in Marcus, as he slowly and reluctantly let his grip loosen on Oliver's arms.

Once he could get free, Oliver immediately ran for the fireplace. Marcus stared after him, blinking the tears from his eyes.

Within seconds, Oliver had left.

Harry, Draco, Percy, Seamus and Ron were sitting in the living room, passing time before the party that evening. Ron and Seamus were engaged in a heated game of chess that Ron would inevitably win, Harry and Draco were watching them in amusement, and Percy was engrossed in a thick muggle novel.

"Checkmate," Ron said finally, grinning madly as Seamus groaned.

"I don't see why anyone still tries to beat Ron," Percy commented, smiling softly.

"You've never played Ron, babe," Harry said to Draco.

Draco smirked. "Well, I know not to enter into a competition I know I won't succeed in."

Harry chuckled while Seamus grinned. "Good on you, Malfoy."

"Who else is coming tonight, Perce?" Ron asked.

"The usual," Percy shrugged. "Some of mom's cousins, Aunt Sibyl… oh, and Cedric's coming too."

Harry opened his mouth to say something when the doorbell rang. Ron got up to get it, but froze once he'd peaked out the door.

Percy leapt off the couch and rushed over, prying the door open.

"Oliver!"

Hi everyone! I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who's reviewed and favourited the story. It puts a smile on my face to see people actually enjoying the story :) Life's been a bit tough and hectic for me of late, and motivation's been on the low end for sure. But to those taking the time to comment, thank you so much. It really motivates me to get off my butt and actually edit and upload these chapters. I have a few more chapters already written, but I wrote them ages ago and I'm going back and changing a few things as I go. So please let me know what you'd like to see more of, what you don't like, etc. Any characters/couples you want to be featured more, etc.

xoxo, Lacey


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:**

"Get the fuck away from me!" Marcus was shouting.

Adrian sighed in exasperation. "Bloody hell, Marcus! What's wrong with you?"

Marcus slammed Adrian hard against the wall. Terrence tried to come between them, but the captain was too blinded by rage to even notice him.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Marcus snapped.

"Wood deserved it!" Adrian complained. "He's using you, Marcus! Anyone can see that!"

Marcus pushed himself off of Adrian and glared pointedly in his face. Then he jerked his glance away and ran a weary hand over his face.

"He's not," Marcus said, sighing in frustration. "God dammnit, Adrian, I trust him."

"How can you?" Adrian shouted in disbelief. "He's a fucking Gryffindor!"

"Shut up!" Marcus snapped. The edge in his voice caused Adrian to freeze. "I don't give a fuck what you think of him! I don't care if he's a Gryffindor!"

"How can you not?" Adrian asked, his tone genuinely confused.

"I _love_ him," Marcus bit out, every word enunciated like his life depended on it.

Adrian was silent for a moment.

"But you used to hate each other so much," he said quietly but determinedly.

"I never hated him," Marcus sighed, looking away. "I hated him because I loved him, I always loved him…" his voice trailed off. Then he faced Adrian again, his eyes narrow. "And because you couldn't fucking keep your opinions to yourself, he's gone!"

Adrian's mouth hung open. "I was only looking out for you, mate! You were risking your _life_ for him! Do you know how serious that is? You could have _died_!"

"I would rather die than lose him," Marcus deadpanned. "For years all I wanted was to be with him, and the day we got together was the happiest of my entire life. He's all I wanted."

Adrian blinked. After a few tense moments, the younger Slytherin let out a small breath.

"I didn't know…" he said, his eyes squinting as if it pained him to speak. "I'm sorry, mate, I – "

"No."

"Marcus."

"Shut up."

"Marcus, I'm your _best friend_!"

"If I don't get him back, Pucey, you best pray to Merlin for your life. We are not bloody _friends_ right now," Marcus sneered.

Adrian's eyes widened. "Marcus, please, I – "

At the sound of footsteps, the three Slytherins paused and looked around.

"Flint!"

Marcus turned to see a menacingly familiar redhead stalking towards him from the direction of the apparition platform. Before he could move, a sharp slap was laid across his cheek.

"Hey!" Terrence shouted, pulling Percy back. But Percy shrugged him off, still glaring at Marcus.

"How dare you treat him like that, Flint," he spat.

"Is he at the Burrow?" Marcus asked, his face falling into an expression of concern.

"I told him not to trust you!" Percy yelled, his normally calm face wrought with anger. "I told him not to come here!"

"Please, Weasley, I made a mistake. I just need to talk to him and – "

"You think I'm letting you near him?" Percy scoffed. "Fuck off, Flint."

With that, the redhead stalked away, leaving Marcus staring after him sadly.

"Marcus…" Terrence began slowly.

"No," Marcus shook his head. "Weasley's right. It was my fault."

Adrian quickly shook his head, his expression becoming more and more concerned for his friend.

"No, it wasn't," Adrian admitted softly. "It was mine… I provoked it."

"Yes," Marcus spat at him, but then deflated a little. "But I was horrible to him too."

"Where are you going?" Terrence asked as Marcus began walking away into the gardens.

Marcus shrugged.

When the two Slytherins were alone, Terrence turned to Adrian, who had his head in his hands.

"Fuck," Adrian sighed.

"Why did you do it?" Terrence asked softly.

"Do what?"

"Blow up at Wood."

Adrian sighed heavily and let out a tired groan.

"I don't know… I guess I was just so used to Marcus and Wood hating each other and I found it bloody hard to believe that actually changed. I'm so used to hating Wood, you know?" Adrian confessed. "So when I saw the notes, I just saw red."

"They love each other," Terrence said simply.

"I know that now," Adrian admitted slowly. "Fuck, I didn't know he meant so much to Marcus."

"Marcus risked his life for him!"

"I thought it was just him being pressured to because he was seeing him!"

"You're really thick, Ade."

Adrian groaned. "I know. What the fuck am I going to do? Marcus hates me now."

Terrence shrugged but then went to sit beside Adrian, looking at him with a small smile.

"He'll come around, you'll see."

"I don't know about that, Terry."

Harry looked up when Percy entered the living room, the redhead's eyes narrowed and murderous.

"Where did you go?" Harry asked.

"Doesn't matter," Percy replied dismissively. "Where's Oliver?"

"Here," Oliver said from the doorway. "You okay, Perce?"

Seamus and the twins appeared next to him. Oliver and the former had taken to talking since Oliver had come to the Burrow earlier, as they'd both been jaded by those of the same house. Fred and George, on the other hand, had done wonders to cheer the scot up with their jokes and plans to prank the hell out of Flint when they got the chance.

Percy smiled at his friend reassuringly.

"When's dinner starting?" Ron asked from the couch. "I'm starving."

Charlie chuckled as he entered the room.

"You're always starving," he commented.

"Well, the best part about birthdays is supposed to be the food!" Ron laughed.

"You'll have to wait a little longer, little brother," Charlie grinned. "Besides, Hermione's coming over, right?"

Ron nodded happily.

A couple minutes later, the doorbell rang.

"That should be her," Ron said as he rushed to answer it.

"Hey, Ron," Hermione said as Ron enveloped her in a tight embrace.

Everyone laughed at Ron's lack of restraint.

"I missed you," Ron said after he and his girlfriend had shared a tender, though chaste, kiss.

Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement. "I missed you too."

Harry came over to give Hermione a hug, and the bushy-haired girl greeted everyone in the room.

"Happy birthday, Charlie!" she said. "Here, this is for you."

"Oh, you really didn't have to," Charlie chuckled as he accepted the neatly wrapped present.

"Don't be silly, of course I did," Hermione said, smiling.

A few moments later, everyone was just hanging out by the fire in the living room, catching up and reminiscing about past Christmases and funny, or rather embarrassing, stories about the Weasley kids – particularly at Ron or Percy's expense and the twins' glee.

When the doorbell rang again, Molly entered the living room to answer it.

"Oh! Cedric, dear," she exclaimed in delight. "We're so glad you could make it!"

Charlie immediately rushed over and his face broke out into a smile when he saw his boyfriend at the door.

"Hey," he breathed as he greeted the Hufflepuff with a kiss.

"Happy birthday, love," Cedric smiled, handing Charlie a small boxed present.

"Come inside, dear!" Molly insisted. "I hope you don't mind but I must hurry along to the kitchen again. Arthur needs a little help with the food."

"Not at all, Mrs. Weasley," Cedric said politely.

Charlie immediately dragged Cedric into the living room, where he was greeted enthusiastically by everyone.

"You all right?" Cedric asked Oliver in concern when they embraced in greeting. Charlie had owled him about the circumstances of the scot's visit.

"I'm fine," Oliver insisted, though Cedric could see the loss clouding his ex-boyfriend's eyes.

"Just say the word and I'll hex him," Cedric smiled.

Oliver chuckled. "Thanks."

When everyone had gathered around the large dining table, the atmosphere was alive and giddy with happiness and winter charm. Everyone was happy and comfortable; Harry and Draco were enjoying themselves heartily as the latter engaged in conversation with Arthur about wizarding politics and laughed at Ron's jokes about Harry when he was little, much to the raven-haired boy's embarrassment. But Harry was glad that Draco had been accepted by the family he pretty much considered his own.

He looked towards Seamus and Oliver, who were smiling and content. They might have looked all right to any stranger, but Harry, who knew the two boys much better than that, knew that they were subdued. He sighed sadly. He only wished they could have been spared the hurt from their respective Slytherins.

But when Draco intertwined his fingers with Harry's on the table, Harry raised his head to smile at his boyfriend.

Meanwhile, Fred and George were in the middle of one of their embarrassing stories.

"So, Ron went into the store and asked for her number…"

"…but she was 30 years old!"

"Thirty years…

"…old! It was hilarious, and you should have…"

"…seen Ron's face when he found out…"

"…oh, my, are we glad he found you, 'Mione, we were…"

"…convinced he'd end up with some weird…"

"…middle-aged woman…"

"…and that would be a disaster!"

The entire table erupted into laughter at the thought of Ron asking out a witch who turned out to be twice his age, while the redhead in question blushed madly.

"She didn't look thirty!" he defended himself before looking sheepishly at his girlfriend. "I swear!"

Hermione laughed despite herself. "You're impossible, Ronald."

"Oh!" Fred exclaimed, doubtless remembering another story. He glanced at George, who seemed to know what he was thinking about instinctively.

"This one's for you, Shay…"

Seamus looked up in amusement.

"…So a year ago, Fred and I…"

"...wanted to pull a prank on a Slytherin but we didn't…"

"…want to get in too much trouble, so we decided…"

"…to target underclassmen…"

"…so one day, we replaced Zabini's hair gel…"

"…with super glue…"

"…Merlin, you should have seen his face that morning!"

"It was hilarious!"

Again, everyone started laughing, knowing how much appearances meant to the Slytherin. Seamus chuckled too, though his eyes flickered with sadness at the mention of the dark-eyed boy.

Draco, meanwhile, looked at Fred and George, aghast.

"That was _you?_ " he exclaimed in disbelief.

Fred and George laughed and high-fived each other. "Indeed it was."

"Blaise borrowed my hair gel for two weeks!" Draco complained, frowning.

Harry laughed. "That must have been devastating…" he teased.

Draco glared at him but it was soon replaced with an amused smile.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't do the same to my hair gel," he said to the twins.

Fred and George glanced at each other knowingly.

"Well, we never said we weren't planning on it…"

Draco's face fell and Fred and George erupted in laughter.

Harry bit his lip to stop himself from chuckling and leaned in to give Draco a kiss on the cheek.

"Love you," he whispered, grinning brightly.

Draco rolled his eyes, though he was smiling contentedly. "I love you too, silly Gryffindor."

"Hey, Oliver, do you still have that scar on your thigh from when you fell in the locker room?" Fred asked, laughing again.

Oliver groaned and laughed into his hands. "Don't remind me of that."

Harry laughed at his captain's embarrassment. "Don't get too eager to get out on the pitch during the finals," he chuckled.

"Was that before the Hufflepuff game last year?" Cedric asked.

Oliver nodded guiltily. "I was a little… excited about the match, that's all."

"Excited? You ran out of the locker room and slipped on the wet tiles!" George exclaimed, bursting into another fit of laughter.

Harry chuckled at the memory.

"Ever the enthusiast," Charlie said, amused.

"More like fanatic," Fred giggled.

When the cake came out at the end of the meal, everyone marveled at how good it smelled.

"You made that, Ron?" Ginny asked in disbelief. "The last time mom asked you to bake the cake it came out half burnt!"

Ron looked down at his lap sheepishly as Hermione gave him a questioning glance.

"Draco helped," Ron explained. "It was his recipe."

"My mother's," Draco corrected, though not before sending Ron an amused glance; he'd caught his use of 'Draco' instead of 'Malfoy.'

"Oh!" Molly said in delight. "How kind of you, Draco. It looks lovely – ten times what Ron could have ever attempted. We've tried to teach him, you see, but he has a rather clumsy hand in the kitchen."

Ron frowned as Seamus and Harry shared a knowing look.

Draco hid a chuckle behind a smoothly placed hand. "My pleasure."

When the dinner had finished, it was around midnight, but no one felt tired at all as everyone hung out around the house, enjoying the cold winter night in good company.

Cedric and Charlie were out on the terrace, staring at what stars they could see. Charlie's arm was wrapped around Cedric's waist to pull him close.

"My parents adore you," Charlie said, smiling. "But of course they do, you're such a charmer."

Cedric smiled back and cuddled into Charlie's embrace. "They're really kind to me. And so are you. Thank you for inviting me."

"Of course I invited you," Charlie said, moving a couple of strands of golden-brown hair from Cedric's eyes. "It's my birthday, and I wanted to spend it with the people I love."

Cedric's eyes widened when he realized what Charlie was saying.

"You love me?"

Charlie nodded slowly, a genuine smile spreading across his lips.

"But… I don't understand."

"Why?" Charlie asked, tilting his head.

"You're Charlie Weasley," Cedric said, and the genuine disbelief in his tone made the older redhead contain a chuckle.

"So?"

"Well… you're… you're legendary," Cedric argued, his brow furrowed as if considering something all too puzzling. "You work for the ministry… You were the best seeker Gryffindor's ever had… You're…"

"And what do you think you are, a flour sack?" Charlie laughed.

"No, but…"

"But nothing," Charlie insisted, pressing a gentle finger over Cedric's lips. "You're Cedric Diggory. You're the best seeker _Hufflepuff's_ ever had, you're far better than I was. You're smarter than I ever was… you'd get a job at the ministry even if you didn't try. Plus, you're the most good looking boy at Hogwarts," he finished off with a grin.

"No, that's Roger Davies," Cedric argued, though a smile was creeping on his lips.

"No," Charlie said, shaking his head. "I talked to Dumbledore. He was the one who put the charm to sort out the superlatives. He said if there hadn't been a category for best to bring home to mom and dad, you would've beaten Roger by miles."

Cedric shook his head in embarrassment. "That can't be true."

"You're such a modest Hufflepuff," Charlie said. "By the way, you are the best to bring home to mom and dad."

Cedric laughed and slapped Charlie playfully on the head.

After a moment, Cedric turned to press his face into Charlie's warm neck.

"Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

It was half past midnight when Cedric finally insisted he must leave, though Charlie had begged him to stay the night.

"I'll be staying the night on New Year's!" Cedric said as Charlie tugged on his hand. "Besides, my mother will freak out if I'm not home soon."

Charlie pouted. "Fine. But on New Year's you're mine."

Cedric laughed and kissed his boyfriend farewell.

But when the Hufflepuff opened the door, he froze.

"Flint!"

Charlie rushed over and saw the Slytherin standing there. Though his back was straight and determined, the usual sneer was absent from his face.

"Where's Oliver?" he asked softly.

"Get the fuck out," Charlie snapped darkly, getting defensive over his former keeper.

Percy froze when he entered the living room and saw Marcus. Fred, George and Seamus walked in a couple of seconds after him, and their eyes blazed in anger at the Slytherin.

"What are you…"

"…doing here, you stupid…"

"…arrogant, son of a blast-ended skrewt!"

"Please, I need to talk to Oliver," Marcus said, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Didn't I tell you to fuck off, Flint?" Percy said darkly.

"Yes, Weasley, but since when do I listen to you?" Marcus drawled sarcastically.

"You think you have the right to even talk to him?" Cedric asked. "You hurt him and you expect us to let you in?"

"I – "

"Well we won't," Charlie snapped.

Fred and George were livid with anger.

"In case you're unaware…"

"…Oliver has friends who love him…"

"…unlike you and your Slytherin crew…"

"…you're just no good for him."

"Get out of here before I'm forced to hex you," Percy yelled.

"What in blazing hell is he doing here?" Harry shouted as he walked into the room.

He and Draco stood at the doorway and Marcus instantly locked eyes with his housemate.

"Draco."

"Marcus."

"I need to talk to Oliver."

Draco sighed, seeing the pain in the captain's eyes.

"That's not the best idea," he said simply. In a hurried, but smooth motion, he held Harry, who'd tried to lunge at the Slytherin captain, back.

"He's not worth it, love," Draco whispered quickly into Harry's ear. Though simmering with rage, Harry calmed at Draco's words.

"Hey, why are you all in there?" came a voice from the dining room.

Marcus' eyes widened as he recognized it.

"No!" Percy shouted as Oliver entered the room. But it was too late. Marcus and he had locked eyes immediately.

A few tense moments passed, but it seemed like an age.

"I need to talk to you," Marcus said. It was almost a whisper, but everyone in the room heard it clearly.

"Oliver, if you want me to hex him, I will," Fred said, his eyes narrowed at the Slytherin.

"Oliver… _please,_ " Marcus said, his eyes boring into the scot's, showing him all the hurt, the pain, the desperation.

"Get out, Flint," Percy said.

"I love you," Marcus said to Oliver, ignoring Percy's threat. "Please. Just give me one more chance."

"You told me you wouldn't fuck up the first chance," Oliver said, his voice neutral, steady but slow, as if he was trying hard to keep it from trembling.

"I made a mistake," Marcus said desperately. "Please… I love you."

"Funny way to treat someone you love," Harry said darkly.

"I'd give my _life_ for him and everyone here should know that by now, you idiot!" Marcus yelled at Harry fiercely.

"Hey! Watch who you're talking to," Draco glared at Marcus, placing a protecting hand on Harry's shoulder.

Marcus turned back to Oliver. "Oliver… please. I just need to talk to you."

Oliver looked at Marcus silently, his eyes guarded, though the Slytherin could see the pain underneath the cold shutters of his gaze.

"Please."

Oliver took another breath and looked away.

"Five minutes," he said. "And we're talking outside."

Percy's eyes widened. "Oliver, are you sure?"

"Oliver! You're mad!" Fred and George yelled in unison.

Oliver shook his head slowly, grabbing his coat. "It's all right, guys. We'll just talk. He won't leave if we don't, anyway."

Percy nodded slowly but turned to give Marcus a suspicious glare.

"You hurt him, and I will kill you," he spat.

"And the rest of us will help," Charlie added.

"I know," Marcus said softly.

Blaise walked along a large, well-known street in the expensive compound where many Slytherins spent their winters. It was snowing heavily, and a harsh wind was weaving through the roads, but Blaise seemed to pay it no mind. His hands, though ungloved, were not in his pockets and he wore no hat or covering on his head to keep out the cold. It was almost as if he didn't feel it.

When he came across a shop specializing in Quidditch merchandise, he paused and looked at the display.

On one corner, there was a sculpture of a miniature Irish Pixie with a pot of gold in its arms. Its hat read **Irish National Quidditch Team,** and it was seated on a Quidditch broom with bristles glowing green and gold.

On the outside, Blaise seemed perfectly composed, but on the inside he was tearing himself apart. His mind flashed back to when Seamus and he had spent the morning in bed, and the Irishman had told him fanatically of all the names of the wizards on his national team, all of which had slipped Blaise's mind within days.

A sad smile appeared on his lips as he raised his fingers to touch the glass of the display. He'd written to Seamus, but Draco had owled him and told him what had become of his letter. If it were not for his amazing restraint, he would have apparated to the Burrow and barged in looking for his ex-boyfriend. But he knew he could not invade on Seamus' privacy when he was clearly not wanted.

And the thought that Seamus no longer wanted him hurt him right down to the core.

Oliver squinted as a gust of wind blew through the tall reeds surrounding the Burrow. Though it was not snowing, it was bitterly cold outside. Marcus resisted the urge to hold Oliver and shield him against the cold.

After a few tense seconds of silence, Oliver sighed.

"You wanted to talk, so talk," Oliver said.

Marcus was hurt by Oliver's distant tone, but he was determined not to lose him.

"I love you," he said firmly.

Oliver looked away.

"I know that what I did and what I said were horrible," Marcus admitted. "I regret it with all my heart. I always did have too much rage in me, and I never know how to control it even with the ones I love. But I'm working on it and I promise it will never happen again."

When Oliver didn't say anything, Marcus continued.

"Adrian's wrong about Gryffindor and Slytherin couples. Look at Harry and Draco. They hated each other and now they're inseparable."

Oliver looked down at his feet, brow furrowed.

Marcus sighed. "Just because we used to hate each other doesn't mean we can't love each other now."

"It does when you still remember so vividly why you hated me," Oliver countered.

"I didn't mean that," Marcus said.

"If you didn't mean it then why did you say it?"

"I hated you, Oliver, because I loved you," Marcus explained softly.

Oliver's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I could never control my love for you," Marcus continued. "When we first met, I had feelings for you immediately. I tried to deny it so badly. But I couldn't. And so I hated you… because you made it impossible for me to stop loving you, even when I was mad as hell."

Oliver's eyes widened a little at Marcus' admission.

"Oliver, you are everything to me," Marcus said, his voice laced with emotion. "I would give my life for you. I saved you from Voldemort because if anything happened to you… I would not want to live."

"What?" Oliver couldn't keep the surprise from his voice.

"Don't you understand?" Marcus asked. "I've loved you for years. You are _everything_ to me. Please… just give me one more chance. Please."

Oliver sighed again, his eyes betraying lingering hurt. "I want to… I just… when Adrian slammed me against the wall, I remembered every time you did the same. Everytime _I_ pushed _you_ against a wall over the years. I mean, how many times have I punched you? How many times have you punched _me_?"

Marcus' eyes closed at the memory.

"I know," he said, his voice barely audible. "I regret every hand I laid on you. I've loved you for years and there's no excuse for it. I-"

"I hit you too, Marcus," Oliver said softly.

"But we're not the same people now," the Slytherin insisted. "We're past that. And it won't happen again. I know I need to get better at controlling my anger, and I will."

"Whenever I remember how violent we've been with each other in the past, it kills me," Oliver said, leaning against the wall. "I love you so much and I hate that this is so difficult."

Marcus looked at him for a moment, just breathing heavily.

"I love you too," he said finally. "And… and if you don't want to be with me anymore, I'd understand. I wouldn't force you. You have friends here who love you and – "

"Not like you," Oliver whispered suddenly.

"What?"

"They don't love me like you do," Oliver explained. When he raised his head, Marcus' eyes teared at the familiarity he saw in those warm, brown eyes.

"I got mad at Adrian," Marcus said quietly.

"You what?"

"I told him that if ever said a word against you again, our friendship was over."

"But he's your best friend."

"But you're _everything_. And I will protect you and love you over anyone."

Oliver blinked once, pushed himself off the wall, and walked forward to wrap his arms around the taller boy. Marcus instantly returned the embrace tightly, reveling in the feeling of having Oliver once more in his arms.

"I love you so much," Oliver whispered into Marcus' neck, taking in his musky, familiar warm scent.

"I love you too," Marcus replied, his voice strained with the threat of tears. "I'll work on my anger. I promise."

"It's okay," Oliver whispered. "I know you will."

"Are we okay?" Marcus asked nervously. "I just… I don't want you to think that we're the same people we were years ago."

"I know we're not," Oliver said, smiling up at his boyfriend. "Relationships take work, but you're more than worth it."

Marcus sagged into Oliver's embrace, holding onto him like the world depended on it.

"Draco!" Harry hissed. "Not here!"

Draco pouted as he retracted his hand from where it had been below Harry's belt.

"You're such a spoil sport, Potter," he said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Do you want to give the Weasleys a show?" he asked sarcastically.

"Good point."

The two 4th years scrambled up the staircase, but just as they reached the top of it, Harry froze, and then his face split into a big smile.

"Hey, look," he said, pointing out the window.

Draco leaned his chin on Harry's shoulder as he peered down to the Weasley patio, where Oliver and Marcus, who had been joined by Cedric and Charlie, were talking animatedly.

"Looks like they made up," Harry said, sighing in relief.

"Well good," Draco said, rolling his eyes in mock-annoyance. "Marcus would have been a pain to deal with if they hadn't."

Harry chuckled, then gripped Draco's shirt. "Now where were we?" he asked, pulling his boyfriend into a fierce kiss.

Draco kissed back with fervor, his hands traveling downwards to cup Harry's arse through his jeans.

"Are you sure?" Percy asked Oliver worriedly.

Oliver nodded reassuringly. "I'll be all right, Perce."

Percy sighed but reluctantly let his best friend go. "There will always be a spare room for you here if you need it," he said and then glared at Marcus. "I expect him not to be needing it, Flint."

Marcus nodded at the redhead, his eyes uncharacteristically sober and genuine towards the Weasley. "He won't."

"I trust him, Perce," Oliver said, smiling. "Thank you for everything. Don't know what I would do without you, honestly."

Percy chuckled softly. "You're my best friend, Ollie."

Oliver released Marcus' hand to give Percy a tight embrace. "Love you."

"Love you too, weirdo."

As Marcus and Oliver stepped out the door, Marcus looked back at Percy as Oliver went down the terrace to grab his shoes.

"Thank you for taking care of him," Marcus said softly.

Percy glared at the Slytherin. "I wish I could say the same of you."

"I will," Marcus promised. "From now on I will."

Percy sighed heavily. "Look, Flint, he loves you and trusts you, so by extension, I will tolerate you because of what you mean to him. But remember that when he is here, with us, he has a home full of friends. And when he is with you at your mansion, he only has you. Bear that in mind the next time you want to hurt him."

Marcus looked at the redhead for a few moments and Percy met his gaze unfazed.

"I understand," the Slytherin said finally. "I won't hurt him or let anyone else hurt him. I love him, and I hope one day you see that."

"I do see that," Percy admitted, shrugging. "I just don't know if you can be trusted."

Before Marcus could respond, Oliver was returning, having put on his shoes by the terrace.

"You ready to go?" Oliver asked.

"Yes," Marcus said, smiling at his boyfriend and taking his hand.

"Later, Percy!" Oliver waved.

"Stay safe, Ollie."

Marcus wrapped a tight arm around Oliver's waist, shielding him as best he could from the biting cold as they walked towards the house. When they stepped onto the terrace, they were instantly enveloped in warmth.

Oliver smiled softly at Marcus, who pulled him close and pressed a reassuring kiss on his lips.

"Marcus!"

Adrian came running up the stairs of the terrace, his cloak covered in snow. Terrence was behind him, though he walked more slowly.

Marcus instantly looked away and ushered Oliver towards the front door.

"Marcus, wait!" Adrian said desperately.

"Get the fuck off my property," Marcus snapped.

Adrian paused and his brow furrowed in hurt. "Look, Marcus, I know what I did was wrong… and I know you hate me right now, but I'm sorry. I didn't know how much you meant to each other, okay? I was stupid."

"You were," Marcus drawled darkly. "And your stupidity nearly cost me Oliver."

The scot in question stood behind Marcus, eyeing Adrian nervously.

"I'm sorry," Adrian insisted, stepping forward.

"Get out before I'm forced to call security," Marcus growled.

Adrian stopped. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Marcus looked away. "I need time," he said finally, his voice one note.

Adrian nodded immediately. "Okay. I'll give you all the time you need."

Marcus sighed and nodded quickly. "Just get out of my house. I don't want to see you right now."

Adrian complied and began walking away in the direction of his own house, but not before casting a sad look over his shoulder.

Terrence stared at his retreating back before turning to Marcus.

"Sorry, Terry," Marcus said, squinting, though from what it was not clear. "I just can't be around him right now."

Terrence shrugged lightly. "I get it."

"You want to come inside?" Marcus asked uncertainly. "I'm not mad at you, you know."

Terrence smiled. "I know you're not. And I would but it's nearly dawn."

"Right," Marcus said, letting out a small chuckle as he remembered. "Will you be all right walking back alone?"

"Yeah," Terrence said easily. "It's not far."

"All right," Marcus said. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," Terrence said. But before he turned around, he looked at Oliver, then back at Marcus. "I'm glad you got him back, Marcus."

Marcus smiled. "Thank you."

When Terrence had left, Marcus led Oliver back to his bedroom, where they immediately huddled together on the bed.

"You didn't have to send Adrian away, you know," Oliver said quietly. Sure, he hated the other Slytherin but he felt slightly guilty for causing trouble between Marcus and his best friend.

"I did," Marcus insisted. "And it's not all because of you. I needed to for me. I couldn't stand being around him right now."

Oliver pressed a warm kiss to Marcus' jaw. "I just don't want you risking your friendships with other people just because they don't like me. I mean, I know I said I felt alone, but…"

"Shhh," Marcus said, looking into Oliver's eyes reassuringly. "Don't think that way. Anyone who treats you badly isn't my friend."

Oliver smiled softly. "I'm sorry for the way my friends treated you too," he sighed regretfully. "They were just really angry."

"They had every right to be," Marcus said.

"I know, but I just wanted you to know that if they ever did anything to hurt you, I'd hex them, no question about it," Oliver said firmly. "Well… maybe except for Charlie. He's a dragon slayer, he'd probably kill me," he added with a light laugh.

Marcus chuckled. "Thank you, love."

"Marcus?"

"Yeah?"

"You know the Quidditch finals coming up?"

"What about it?"

Oliver sighed and bit his lip. "It's going to be hard for us…"

Marcus held Oliver's face in his hands. "I won't let it tear us apart."

Oliver smiled at the certainty in his boyfriend's voice. "Neither will I."


	21. Chapter 21

Hi everyone! Thanks to everyone who's still reading this and reviewing. I really appreciate the feedback and kind words.

I know I've been updating rarely and sporadically. Life has just gotten in the way, as cliche as it sounds. I was afraid to promise anything when posting the last few chapters because I knew life would still be hectic for a while and I'd likely be continuing with the sporadic updates. But things have settled down and I'm committed to updating a little more regularly. Writing this story is just super therapeutic for me, and even though it's been years since I first posted Chapter 1, I keep coming back to it.

I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who's left me a review. Even during those months when I felt like I'd never get around to ever posting another chapter, getting a notification of a review made me smile and brightened my day.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this next chapter! Sorry if it's a little bit rushed/not as well written as usual. I made a last minute plot change, so I had to go back and edit everything.

 **Chapter 21:**

"I'll have the… roast chicken?"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Harry, are you committed to ordering the roast chicken at every restaurant we go to?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed, laughing. "I like roast chicken."

"I know," Draco smiled. "I'm just joking. I'll have the seafood risotto, please."

The waiter nodded and walked away.

"I like this place," Harry said, looking around at the quaint but well-decorated, classy restaurant they were in.

"It's one of the best in this neighborhood, I think," Draco said. "Not many people know about it though, because it doesn't advertise itself too much. Which is nice, because I don't bump into too many people my family knows."

Harry smiled teasingly at his boyfriend, knowing that, contrary to common belief, Draco didn't like mingling with all the elites his family was associated with.

"How did you come across this place, then?" Harry asked.

"A few years ago, Pansy, Blaise and I were walking around here, couldn't be bothered to floo back to my house for a meal so we saw this place and decided to try it out," Draco shrugged.

"Well, I'm glad you took me here," Harry smiled brightly. It was the day before Christmas, and Draco had insisted he take Harry on a lunch date before they both spent the night at the Burrow.

"How are your parents?" Harry asked, tilting his head with a tinge of concern.

"All right," Draco replied soberly. "The Dark Lord hasn't called for them in a while, which is both a good and a worrying thing."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, his brow furrowing.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, instantly seeing Harry's mood change.

"What happens when Voldemort finds out we're together?" Harry asked softly.

Draco exhaled silently, and Harry's question hung in the air like an omen. He knew the question was coming. It was inevitable. They had discussed it before, and talked about how they wouldn't hide their relationship for anyone. Not even You-Know-Who. But Draco had still pushed Harry away that night in the Great Hall when the Dark Lord attacked for fear that he discover their love for one another. They didn't want to hide, but fear still held them back.

"Your parents, they'll be in even greater danger when he finds out. He'll think they're spies, and... What if he already knows—"

"My parents know the risk they're taking," Draco said calmly, but not sounding overconfident. "They know that Voldemort could find out any day now. I mean, we're not hiding. And we shouldn't."

Harry's eyes flickered with doubt, but Draco's hand on his steadied him.

"I'm not letting him take this from us," Draco said.

"Neither am I," Harry agreed.

Their eye contact was broken when the waiter came with their food. They ate in silence for a few minutes, just revelling in each-other's company.

"Onto lighter subjects?" Draco asked, smiling.

Harry chuckled. "Sure. You seen Flint or Oliver lately?"

Draco nodded and looked out the window to a view of the lake, and on the other side of it, one side of Marcus' mansion.

"Yeah, they skate on some nights and I bump into them when I'm out with mother," Draco said. "They seem all right."

"Thank Merlin," Harry said, smiling approvingly. He cared deeply for his Quidditch captain, for many reasons, only one of which was that he'd been the first one Harry told about his own sexuality.

"Oh, that reminds me," Draco began, smiling brightly. "Marcus is holding tryouts this coming term."

"Tryouts?"

"For Quidditch."

Harry tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean? Isn't the team set for the year?"

"Yes, but ahead of the finals, Marcus wants to recruit some more reserves, just in case," Draco explained. "He's only got Adrian as a reserve chaser, but that's it."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, that's good then. Oliver's always telling us how important it is to train a good reserve team."

"Exactly. I was thinking of trying out myself."

"Oh," Harry repeated, surprised.

"Yeah," Draco said, smiling, eyes wide.

"What position?" Harry asked, a small frown forming on his face.

Draco shrugged. "I thought of trying out for reserve chaser, but I talked to Marcus about it and he wants me to try out for seeker."

"Oh…" Harry said softly.

"I don't even know if I'll make it," Draco said, looking thoughtfully out the window. "But I've been going out flying with Blaise lately, and I don't think I'm terrible. Maybe I'll have a shot."

Harry nodded vacantly.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, noticing Harry's frown.

Harry shrugged lightly.

"What's wrong?" Draco repeated.

Harry sighed. "Are you sure you want to try out?"

Draco mirrored Harry's furrowed brow. "What do you mean?"

Just then, the waiter came to refill their drinks. Harry looked at his hands uncomfortably. When the waiter had left, Draco fixed Harry with a piercing stare.

"I just don't know if that's the best idea," Harry confessed.

"Why?"

"If you make it, then you've got a chance of playing against Gryffindor in the finals, if Higgs is injured," Harry explained.

Draco raised a brow. "So?"

Harry looked up. "So? You'll be playing against me."

"Again, so?"

"Our houses are already rivals..." Harry said, frowning.

This time, Draco's stare turned into more of a glare.

"I'm aware of that."

Harry sighed and looked away. "I just don't think we should make this rivalry even worse than it already is. Think about how hard it'll be if we're on opposing teams."

Draco narrowed his eyes slowly. "Who cares if you're a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin? I thought we agreed that house rivalry wasn't going to affect our relationship?"

"I know we agreed on that, but you being on the house team will just intensify everything unnecessarily," Harry sighed.

"Oh, so my wanting to try out for the team is unnecessary?"

"No, I didn't say tha—"

"Why are you allowed to be the seeker for the Gryffindor team while I'm not even allowed to try out for the Slytherin team?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"That's not what I'm saying!" Harry insisted.

"Then what are you saying?"

"I don't want to make the circumstances of our rivalry even more heated. I don't want things to be even harder for us!"

"Oliver and Marcus play against each other all the time!"

"And they nearly broke up because of it! We're rivals in every sense, and you being on the team will just make things so much more difficult for us," Harry insisted.

"I know, but we can pull through it," Draco said, frowning. "It'll be hard, yes, but – "

"Then why make it harder than it already is?" Harry asked with a tinge of desperation.

"Harder for you, maybe!" Draco said. "You know, I expected some bloody support from my boyfriend, not you insisting that I don't try out because it will make you less than certain that our relationship will work out!"

"I'm just trying to protect us, Draco, I-"

Harry was interrupted when Draco raised his hand and asked the waiter abruptly for the check.

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the hallways.

"Terrence, honey, could you get that for me? I'm just pulling something out of the oven!"

"Yes, mother," Terrence called from his bedroom.

When he'd made it down three flights of stairs, he opened the large, oak doors and was greeted by warm, twinkling dark eyes.

"Viktor!" he gasped.

The Bulgarian smiled as Terrence wrapped his arms around the taller boy's shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" Terrence asked in disbelief. "I thought you were only back from Bulgaria on New Year's Eve?"

"I decided to cut it short," Viktor shrugged. "I vas missing a zertain Slytherin boy too much."

Terrence beamed. "I missed you too."

Viktor chuckled as he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Terrence's. The kiss quickly deepened, with Viktor almost lifting his boyfriend off his feet, and when the two came away for air they were breathless.

"Terrence, who was it?" a voice called from inside.

Terrence took Viktor's hand in his. "Come on, I'll introduce you to my family."

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets angrily as the wind picked up. He knew he'd been more crass than he should have been towards Draco, but he was so frustrated at the blond for not considering what his presence on the Slytherin team would do to their relationship. It would make them rivals in yet another sense.

It was about ten minutes later, when Harry had walked halfway up the lake, that he realized he had no idea where he was. He looked around and made out no buildings or houses he could identify based on Draco's previous description of the area, except for one house that may or may not have been either Goyle or Crabbe's house.

Harry was just about to turn back when he noticed two figures that he recognized playing in the snow farther down the lakeside.

"Marcus, wait!" Oliver was shouting in between laughs as the Slytherin hurled another snowball at him.

Harry smiled in amusement as he saw Oliver pounce on Marcus, rolling them round and round in the snow until Marcus got the upper hand and straddled the scot playfully.

It was a few moments later that Oliver finally saw Harry in the distance.

"Harry! Is that you?"

Harry came over to greet them both.

"What are you doing here?" Oliver asked.

Harry shrugged. "Just walking."

Oliver frowned lightly, noticing the familiar troubled frown in Harry's expression.

"I had a fight with Draco," Harry confessed, sighing.

"Oh," Oliver said in concern. Seeing Harry's sadness, he shot Marcus a quick look and the Slytherin nodded and left them.

Harry smiled softly in gratefulness. "You didn't have to do that."

Oliver shrugged, smiling. "Dunno what you're talking about," he winked. "So what's got you down?"

Harry's smile turned into a frown again. "Draco wants to try out for the Slytherin reserve team."

"Oh!" Oliver exclaimed. "Damn, and he's got real talent. I was hoping Marcus wouldn't see it," he added with an amused chuckle.

"Aren't you worried?" Harry asked.

Oliver shrugged. "Not really. We'll beat them if we're better than them in the end."

"I know, but… isn't it hard?"

"What?"

"You and Marcus playing for opposing teams?" Harry asked curiously.

"Oh, is that what you fought about with Draco?" Oliver asked knowingly.

Harry nodded, pouting slightly. "He didn't understand that it would be bloody hard for us if we played for opposing teams. Not that… not that I think that you and Flint wouldn't work out…"

"No, no," Oliver interrupted. "I know what you're saying. There are moments when Marcus and I argue, and they're usually Quidditch-related. It's not easy."

"So how do you deal with it?"

Oliver shrugged. "I love him, and he loves me. We both don't want Quidditch to ruin us."

"Don't you talk about Quidditch with him?"

"Sure. We even fly together sometimes," Oliver said. "We both love Quidditch, so we can't exactly not share it together. But when it comes to house teams, we just acknowledge that we have different loyalties. That's all."

Harry nodded silently and looked down at his feet.

"Did you tell Draco you didn't want him to try out?" Oliver asked.

Harry nodded again miserably.

Oliver smiled sympathetically and placed a supportive hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I know it sounds hard, Harry," he started softly. "But you love him, and he loves you. Trust in that. You'll get through it. You can't let the fear of your rivalry prevent you both from doing anything you want to do."

"I know," Harry sighed heavily. "Merlin, I was horrible to him. I guess I was just terrified at the prospect of something else that has the potential to make us argue, you know?"

Oliver nodded. "I know exactly."

Harry smiled up at his captain. "Thanks, Ollie. You always get it."

Oliver chuckled. "Well, it's my responsibility to make sure my seeker isn't knee-deep in depression at any time before such an important game!"

Harry laughed and smacked Oliver playfully on the head.

"You think I should go apologize right now?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Oliver said. "Just say you're sorry and explain everything. I'm sure it'll be all right."

"Okay," Harry smiled, then looked around in confusion.

Oliver rolled his eyes in amusement. "Marcus, baby, come over here. You know where Draco's house is?"

Harry looked at him, startled. "How did you kno – "

"I've seen that lost look on you too many times," Oliver said.

Harry laughed.

"If Marcus wasn't standing right there, I'd smack you again," he said, grinning.

That evening, the Flints started welcoming guests into their house for Christmas dinner, which they would be hosting for a number of Slytherin families near the lake.

The house was decorated lavishly with expensive chandeliers and romantic candles, giving off the vibe of an elegant yet vibrant winter mood. The dining tables were set with pristine white tablecloths and glittering utensils, and the house elves in the kitchen were busy at work cooking dinner along with Marcus' mother, who supervised the whole thing.

Oliver had offered his own help in the kitchen, and although Lucia Flint had politely refused him and insisted he go enjoy himself outside, she eventually let up with an amused smile at Oliver's persistence and let him help out.

"So, Oliver, dear," she began, chopping up some carrots, "Are you having a good time here so far?"

"Very good, ma'am," Oliver smiled politely. "Everyone's been really nice."

"So have you," she responded, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Marcus is quite taken with you, you know."

Oliver blushed. "Well, so am I with him."

"I can see that," Lucia replied, turning back to the sink. "You are good for him."

Oliver's smile widened, though he knew she could not see it.

"Don't tell him that I told you this, but he used to be such a grumpy little thing at family events," she continued. "He'd sulk on his own, with that glare of his, not talking to anyone except Adrian and Terrence. But you, you've changed him. He's always smiling now; it's refreshing."

"I'm glad," Oliver nodded, measuring another cup of milk, "He's lovely when he smiles."

Lucia turned back to Oliver and smiled at him like a mother would smile at a long lost son.

"Yes, he is."

"Mother!" came a call from the other room. A few seconds later, Marcus appeared at the doorway and stared half with confusion and half with amusement at the sight of Oliver and his mother at the kitchen island.

"My boyfriend's not your extra house elf, mother," Marcus commented.

"He's much more help in the kitchen than you are, I must say," Lucia said with a click of disapproval.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Come on, Ollie, guests are starting to arrive."

Oliver turned to Lucia. "Do you still need –"

"Oh, no, no," Lucia insisted, shooing him off, "Go meet the guests, there will be many of your schoolmates. I'm fine here. Thank you, dear, for your help."

When Marcus had led Oliver out of the kitchen, the scot smiled lovingly at his boyfriend and planted a playful kiss on his cheek.

"What was that for?" Marcus chuckled.

Oliver shrugged and scrunched his nose teasingly. "I love you."

Marcus' face broke into a smile that Oliver found irresistibly cute.

"Love you too."

When they'd gotten to the living room, many people were already there mingling, with Marcus' father at the center of the socializing. Oliver didn't recognize anyone, all of them being older, high-class guests. Marcus led Oliver outside to the terrace just as two familiar faces made it up the stairs.

"Oliver!"

"Hey, Daphne," Oliver greeted the Slytherin with a warm smile. She looked stunning as usual in an elegant dark green dress that showed off her lean figure. Her hair was done up in a lovely up-do that looked classy but not overdone.

"How are you, Marcus?" Daphne asked, giving the Slytherin a warm kiss on the cheek.

"Well," Marcus nodded with a tense smile. Oliver wondered why before he saw who Daphne was holding hands with.

Daphne sensed the tension too and shared a small look with Oliver.

"Hi, Adrian," Oliver said suddenly, deciding to break the silence before it got too awkward.

Adrian looked up with a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Hi," he said.

"Are you two still at odds?" Daphne asked almost silently, but with a steady gaze at Marcus.

Marcus looked away coldly. "That's not on me."

Adrian sighed and his eyes betrayed the despair he felt. "Marcus, please... I said I was sorry."

"And I said I need time," Marcus said, before walking back into the house.

Oliver smiled apologetically at Daphne and Adrian, but before he could make to follow his boyfriend, Adrian touched his elbow.

"Wait."

"What is it?"

"Look, Wood," Adrian said, sighing. "I don't like you."

"I know," Oliver said, frowning.

"But I know Marcus loves you, and for that reason I'm sorry for trying to pull you two apart."

Oliver was silent for a moment, seeing the reluctant sincerity in the boy's gaze.

"I love him too, you know."

Adrian shrugged. "Maybe."

"Adrian!" Daphne admonished softly.

"What?" Adrian asked shrugging. He turned back to Oliver. "I don't know if you do. That's the truth, all right? But he loves you, so I'll tolerate you. But if you hurt him – "

"I won't."

"But if you do –"

"I won't," Oliver repeated with a note of finality.

Adrian closed his mouth.

"Thank for your apology," Oliver said shortly but sincerely before nodding at them both and going back inside.

"Hey, where's Terrence?" Adrian asked, looking around.

"Spending Christmas with Krum," Marcus replied, filling up his wine glass.

"Aw!" Daphne cooed. "They're so sweet."

"Marcus, come greet the Greys!" called Lucia from the foyer.

Marcus could barely contain his groan but Oliver noticed the change in his boyfriend's expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Marcus said, fixing a plastic smile on his face. "I'll be right back."

"Who are the Greys?" Oliver asked Daphne, who was standing next to him by the wine table.

Daphne and Adrian shared a knowing look.

"They're a family very close to the Flints," Daphne said slowly, as if treading on thin ice.

"And?" Oliver asked, frowning. He could sense there was more to it.

"We all hate their guts," Adrian said plainly, glaring at the direction of the front door.

"Why?" Oliver asked.

Adrian downed the last of his red wine and made to fill his glass up again.

"They're pretentious little fucks," Adrian said. "Even more pretentious than us, mind you.

Daphne nodded in agreement. "They look down on everyone."

"That's terrible," Oliver said.

"Their son is a twat too," Adrian commented.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he might as well have the horns of the devil on his head."

"Adrian!" Daphne chastised lightly, though her face betrayed her agreement. "Daniel's not _that_ bad… At least, not really."

"Daniel?" Oliver asked in surprise, remembering the boy who'd come into Marcus' room looking for Arya. "I've met him. He introduced himself to me the day I got here."

"Yeah, he's probably looking for a lay," Adrian rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"He hits on everybody," Daphne explained. "He thinks he's the king of the world."

"Oh," Oliver frowned. "And Marcus doesn't like him?"

Adrian scoffed. "He used to make fun of Marcus all the time. Still does. I can't stand that boy."

Oliver's brow furrowed in disapproval.

"You talking about Daniel?" came a voice behind them.

They turned to see little Arya looking up at them.

Daphne giggled. "How'd you know?"

"When Adrian looks like he wants to hit something, of course he's talking about Daniel!" Arya exclaimed and they all laughed.

"I like your suit, Oliver," Arya commented, smiling brightly.

"Why thank you, Arya," Oliver smiled. "You're looking very lovely yourself."

Arya beamed and did a little twirl in her pink gown.

A few moments later the three of them walked into the dining room looking for Astoria, Daphne's sister, and noticed Marcus there near the Grey family looking positively murderous under his thin veil of composure.

Oliver quickly rushed to his side.

"Oliver," Daniel greeted with a wide smile that made the scot feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Hi," Oliver said, shaking his head with a tight-lipped smile.

"This is Daniel, who you've met," Marcus said, his manners taking over, "And these are his siblings, Lars and Celine."

Oliver shook hands with a tall, blue-eyed boy and a girl with blond hair curled tightly and make-up as thick as a layer of mud.

"Nice to meet you," he said.

"So you're the one Marcus is getting it on with right now?" Celine purred, her eyes narrowing.

Oliver blinked. "I… what?"

"Celine," Marcus deadpanned, his eyes turning hard.

"Touchy," Daniel commented in dark amusement.

Oliver frowned.

"You're Oliver Wood, right? The Gryffindor captain?" Lars asked.

Oliver nodded mutely.

Lars scoffed.

"What?" Marcus asked pointedly.

Lars shrugged. "I'm surprised someone like you could land a guy like Wood here."

Oliver narrowed his eyes.

"Clearly you're unaware that there are _better_ options," Daniel chuckled.

"You're very handsome," Celine said. She struck Oliver as an extremely blunt girl. "What do you see in Marcus Flint?"

Daniel chuckled. "I guess trolls get lucky from time to time."

Adrian heard this last comment and strode over to them, glowering with fury.

"Hey, why don't you shut your mouth and – "

"Don't raise your voice at me," Daniel said coldly. "I will not shut my – "

"Yes you will," Oliver growled, surprising himself with the rage in his own voice.

Adrian and Marcus looked at Oliver in shock while Daniel fixed him with a challenging gaze.

"Oh yes?" he asked, raising a sarcastic eyebrow. "And why?"

"How _dare_ you talk to Marcus like that?" Oliver whispered darkly, his own gaze unfaltering under Daniel's.

"It's the truth," Daniel rolled his eyes. "No offense, but you can't exactly say he's an attractive – "

"Shut. Your. Mouth," Oliver snapped. "He is twice the man you will ever be. He is beautiful, and I _love_ him. And if you don't see that, it is because you are too blinded by your own self-love."

After a stretch of tense silence, Daniel raised his hands to applaud Oliver softly.

"What a speech," he said, smiling with narrowed eyes. "Well, if you ever want to snag a date with someone who doesn't look like they were spouted from a blast-ended skrewt, I can be a great wingman."

With that, he turned around and walked away with Lars and Celine, the latter shooting Oliver a pointed glare. Adrian immediately rushed over to yell at them but Daphne held him back gently.

Oliver was still fuming, barely refraining from charging after Daniel and punching him in the face numerous times.

It was only when Marcus' hand touched his cheek that he came back to reality. Marcus was looking at him with a gaze that held too many emotions for Oliver to identify.

"I…" Oliver began, not knowing what to say. "Sorry I kind of made a scene."

"I love you," Marcus blurted out softly.

Oliver smiled sadly. "They're horrible."

Marcus let out a short chuckle.

Oliver placed a gentle hand on Marcus' cheek. "You're beautiful, baby. They're just stupid, ignorant pricks."

A smile spread across Marcus' face. "I don't think I've heard you swear like that before outside Quidditch."

Oliver smiled. "I save it for particularly vulgar people."

Marcus pressed a soft kiss on Oliver's lips.

When Oliver looked up, he saw Adrian looking at him. He tilted his head.

"What is it, Ade?" Marcus asked suspiciously.

"You do love him," Adrian nodded, directing it to Oliver but sounding as if he were telling himself.

Oliver nodded. "I do."

"I'm really sorry," Adrian said softly.

"I know," Oliver replied, seeing the regret in the Slytherin's eyes. "I forgive you."

Oliver turned hesitantly to Marcus who was eyeing Adrian through a narrowed gaze. Adrian took a deep breath a looked at his best friend too. Daphne was looking at all of them a little nervously.

"I know you said you needed time, and I'll give you that. But you're my best friend, and that will never change," Adrian said steadily.

Marcus nodded. Oliver noticed that his face had cleared of the suspicion and anger.

"Thank you," he said simply.

Harry was slumped on the couch of the Weasleys' living room, musing over the events of the day with a glass of mulled wine in his hands. He and Draco had parted ways after their fight at the restaurant, and though Harry had tried to catch Draco at his lake house later in the day, the house elves had told him that Draco wasn't in. So Harry had given up and come back to the Burrow, where he now waited impatiently for Draco to show up for Christmas dinner… that is, if he still showed up at all.

Guilt pricked at Harry's spine. He knew he'd been irrational and unsupportive towards his boyfriend and all he wanted to do now was apologize and pray to Merlin that Draco forgave him. He'd spent the afternoon buying Draco's Christmas gift and making it particularly special.

A few moments later, Harry got up off the couch and began to greet the guests coming in. Aside from the Weasley family, Harry and Seamus, Hermione was there with her parents, and so were some of Charlie's friends from the Ministry, and Bill's girlfriend Fleur.

When the doorbell rang again, Harry nearly ran to go answer the door, knowing that it could not be anyone else but Draco.

"Draco!" he exclaimed almost breathlessly when he saw the blond standing there. He was dressed in black dress pants and a well-fitted dark blue collared shirt that contrasted beautifully with his skin.

But before Harry could say anything else, or comment on how lovely his boyfriend looked, Draco had looked behind Harry to Molly, who was smiling at him in greeting.

"Draco! How wonderful to see you!" she exclaimed, enveloping Draco in a warm hug.

"Likewise, Mrs. Weasley," Draco said with a polite, amused smile. "I do apologize for my slight tardiness. My parents seem to think a farewell should last more than a quarter of an hour."

"Oh, nonsense, there's no such thing as tardy in this household," Molly laughed. "Are you certain your parents will not miss you tonight?"

Draco shook his head in reassurance. "They have their hands full with the relatives. I'm sure I will not be missed. Anyway, I've never spent a Christmas here and I'm very much looking forward to it."

Molly's smile widened. Draco knew exactly what to say.

When Molly hustled off, Harry seized his moment and reached out to take Draco's hand in his own. Draco raised his eyes, a mixture of hesitance and confusion.

"Can we talk?" Harry asked.

To his relief, Draco nodded immediately. Harry led his boyfriend out to the foyer, away from the guests, and turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry," he said heavily, looking every bit the part. "I was horrible to you. I never wanted to make you feel like what you want doesn't matter, or like I don't have faith that we can make it through all the rivalry in the world. I'm just… with Voldemort out there, and everything that's going on, I'm just so worried… "

Draco smiled, a little tight-lipped but genuine.

"I understand," he said, joining Harry where he was leaned against the wooden railing of the front porch. "The thought of losing you makes my mind go insane, and I know sometimes it feels like all the odds are against us. Even without the rivalry."

"But I don't doubt that we'd be able to make it through anything," Harry said, turning to look Draco in the eye. "I don't. And I want you to know that."

Draco smiled, the angles of his face catching the moonlight.

"I love you."

"Guys, over here," Ron called, practically dragging Harry and Draco to sit in between him and Ginny. Everyone was sitting around the dining table, including some of Charlie's Ministry friends, and the atmosphere was alive with chatter and merriment.

The food was scrumptious as usual. Mrs. Weasley had made her famous roast turkey with cranberry sauce, as well as pumpkin soup, roast potatoes, grilled rack of lamb and an assortment of grilled vegetables.

"Say, Ginny," Bill said with a smile. "A little birdie told me you've been getting close to Dean Thomas."

"Dean Thomas?" Arthur mused, and Ginny blushed red.

"Oh he's a jolly good lad, don't worry, dad," Charlie laughed.

"Oh, stop it," Ginny said sheepishly.

"Really, Gin? Dean?" Ron asked with genuine confusion and many of them burst into laughter at Ron's obliviousness.

"Honestly, Ron, one would think you were blind!" Hermione commented.

It was Ron's turn to blush.

"Well, he's very nice," Ginny said, still blushing.

"Yes, _nice,_ " Seamus chuckled and ducked to avoid a playful shove from Ginny.

"Aw, little Ginny's…"

"…all grown up!" teased Fred and George, clearly enjoying Ginny's embarrassment.

"So, Charlie, are you still staying at Hogwarts next semester?" Percy asked his brother.

Charlie nodded. "I've been stationed there indefinitely. Can't say I'm not happy about that, though."

"The food's much better there than at the headquarters," said the wizard seated beside Draco.

Everyone laughed.

"You're always thinking of food, Jim," Charlie rolled his eyes, laughing.

As the dinner went on, desserts were brought out. An assortment of treacle tarts, Christmas puddings, chocolate fondants and ginger biscuits were served, and everyone dug in.

Harry smiled when Draco reached for his hand under the table. Just as he was about to lean into him, he saw the front door open and gasped.

"Sirius!" he rushed over and hugged the man who chuckled and hugged back tightly.

"I thought you were on Ministry duty!" Harry exclaimed joyfully.

"You really think I'd miss Christmas with you lot?" he chuckled. "Missed you too much, Prongsie!"

Harry's smile widened as Sirius went around the room greeting everybody.

When dinner was over, Harry spent another hour or so catching up with Sirius, learning about his fantastical, albeit dangerous, Ministry missions. Voldemort was certainly gaining in followers, but Sirius' undying optimism lifted Harry's spirits.

"Marcus?"

Snore.

"Baby?"

Silence.

"Wake up!"

Nothing.

Oliver pouted again and shoved Marcus heavily. This time, though, he sent the Englishman sprawling over the side of the bed, landing with a loud thud on the floor.

"Oh, shit! Marcus?"

Oliver leapt over the bed to the other side only to be confronted with a glaring Slytherin.

"Sorry," Oliver said sheepishly.

Marcus' gaze instantly softened.

"Come on, your mom's been calling for you for an hour," Oliver said, helping his boyfriend off the ground. "It's time to open presents!"

"You're looking eager," Marcus chuckled, smiling fondly at the happiness in Oliver's eyes.

Oliver shrugged. "I love Christmas."

Marcus' eyes twinkled with mirth as he was led down the stairs.

Harry smiled as Fred and George shot another round of confetti out of their wands and around the room. Everyone was sitting together in a circle, opening their presents and bursting into laughter on many an occasion, seeing what people had got one another.

"Aww!" George cooed as he looked at Charlie, who'd just opened his present from Cedric.

" _Vintage Classic: Dragons and Wizards – Limited Edition,_ " Percy observed. "Wow. Those only come pre-ordered."

Charlie smiled at the book, remembering the grey-eyed boy with fondness.

"Oh, _Merlin,_ " Percy sighed, pulling out the present he'd gotten from Oliver, Jack and Katie.

George and Fred hollered catcalls in delight.

Percy held up a pair of tight leather pants and a matching sleeveless top.

The entire room burst into laughter at Percy's embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill them all!" he groaned.

"Time to get kinky, Perce!" Bill laughed.

"Hey, this one's for us and you, Harry," George called, holding up a small box. "From Ollie."

He opened it to reveal gold pins for their Quidditch robes, each with their initials engraved on them. Inside the box was also a notebook filled with Oliver's latest strategy plans.

" _Merry Christmas! (Learn the strategies before school starts) Love, Oliver,_ " Harry read from the card.

"He's never going to let us go more than a week without thinking of Quidditch," Fred chuckled.

Harry grinned.

Beside Harry, Seamus was silently opening a green box, freezing when he saw what was inside.

"Hey!" Charlie exclaimed, recognizing the type of frame Seamus held in his hands. "Are those autographs of a Quidditch team's players?"

Seamus nodded in amazement. "Yeah. The Irish national team. I've always wanted their autographs."

Harry looked over and saw that Seamus was looking at a framed picture of the national team on which each player had signed.

"Merlin! How'd you get that?" Ron gasped.

Seamus was silent for a moment.

"It's from Blaise," he said tersely.

No one said anything for a tense moment, fearing what Seamus made of the gift. But when Seamus silently laid the gift aside and put on a smile, everyone resumed their gift opening.

"Harryyyy," called Sirius. "Open mine!"

Harry laughed at the way Sirius looked like an eager dog with a bone.

When he'd opened Sirius' present, wrapped clumsily with newspaper and what looked like cling wrap – Sirius did this every year – he laughed at what he saw inside.

" _The Ultimate Book of Mischief and Pranks,"_ he read with a joyful smile. He leaned over to give his godfather a huge hug. "Thanks, Siri. But you'll have to pull some strings for me not to get expelled when I try some of these out."

"Consider it taken care of, Prongsie!" Sirius promised, grinning madly.

Harry rolled his eyes in amusement, then looked at the next present to open. He smiled when he saw the familiar Malfoy seal on a beautifully wrapped red and green box.

"Hard to beat Sirius' present, I must admit, but I hope you like it," Draco said softly, his eyes gazing at his boyfriend lovingly.

Harry had to tame his excitement as he opened the box. Inside was a gold frame, similar to the one Seamus had gotten from Blaise, but this one was thicker and definitely more elegant. It was engraved with lions intertwining on the rim, as well as Harry's name on the bottom end.

What confused Harry, though, was that the frame had no picture in it. His brow furrowed in confusion. But when he touched his fingers to the clear glass of the empty picture-holder, it came to life and he instantly saw a moving picture of himself and Draco dancing on the night of the winter ball. Harry watched as he saw the Harry in the picture smile at something Draco said, and the blond's eyes twinkled with happiness.

"Wh – "

"It's enchanted," Draco said.

Harry looked up.

"Enchanted?" he asked.

"It shows you what you want to see," Draco replied.

Harry smiled in wonder, then touched the frame again. This time, it turned into a picture of his mother and father, grinning towards the camera. James pressed a soft kiss on Lily's cheek and Lily shook her head in amusement.

"Wow," Sirius whispered to Harry's left.

Harry nodded as tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. And then, he flung himself at Draco, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"Thank you," he whispered firmly.

Draco smiled, closing his eyes and holding Harry close.

"I'm glad you like it, love."

Marcus laughed at Oliver's face as he ripped into his presents like a five-year-old. Oliver had gotten some new shirts from his mother and a book about diving from his father, which he'd hinted that he wanted.

"Hey, this one's from Percy," Marcus said. "To… both of us?" he frowned.

Oliver grinned nevertheless and unwrapped it before bursting into a fit of laughter.

Marcus snatched the book off him and read the cover.

" _Staying Safe In Bed: Anal Sex,_ " he read. His expression turned into one of shock before he looked at Oliver's face and joined him in his laughter.

"He's unbelievable!" Oliver hiccupped in between chuckles.

"Can't fault him for being worried for your safety," Marcus winked.

"Oh, yes, especially with a dangerous Slytherin," Oliver whispered seductively.

Marcus was just about to lean in to kiss Oliver when his parents came bustling into the room.

"From us to you two," Lucia Flint said with a smile, handing Oliver and Marcus a present each.

"You really didn't have to –" Oliver began.

"Nonsense!"

Oliver's eyes widened when he'd opened the gift. It was a pair of pristine Quidditch keeper gloves, the type and quality Oliver could only dream of ever purchasing. They were leather brown, with red and gold trimmings. Real gold. _Real_ bloody _gold._ And on the back of wear Oliver's thumb would be inside the glove, was an engraving of Oliver's initials, and the Gryffindor emblem beside it.

His eyes glowed as he fingered the gloves in his hand, eyeing them in wonder. He smiled gratefully at the Flints, who were looking at him with delight. Well, at least Lucia was. Mr. Flint wore an expression of reserved amusement.

Oliver was not ignorant to what this gift symbolized. Marcus' parents accepted him, and not only him as Marcus' boyfriend, but also as Marcus' rival on the Quidditch pitch, and also as a Gryffindor. His heart swelled with joy.

"Thank you so much," he said forcefully. "I… I don't know what to say, really. I… Thank you."

"It's our pleasure," Mr. Flint said, nodding with a small smile.

Marcus chuckled then and Oliver looked to his left to see that his boyfriend had gotten shin guards of the same customized style as Oliver's gloves, but with black leather and green and silver trimmings.

"Thank you," Marcus said, grinning at his parents, who he hugged tightly, not only for the gift but also for showing Oliver their acceptance of him.

Almost immediately after Marcus' parents had left the room, Arya came bounding in with a large smile on her face.

"Thanks Oliver!" she yelled as she bowled into the scot and hugged him tightly.

Oliver laughed. "Do you like it?"

"Love it! Look, I'm a princess!" she exclaimed, twirling around. Oliver had gotten her the pink dress she was currently wearing. He'd guessed her size and was relieved to see that it fit quite nicely.

Marcus grinned at the sight. "What, did my present not get me any points with you?"

"I haven't opened yours yet, silly!" Arya giggled. She gave Oliver another big hug before skipping out of the room.

"She loves you more than she loves me, I swear," Marcus chuckled.

"What can I say, I am quite lovable," Oliver grinned as he nudged a present towards Marcus.

"Here, open mine," he said, smiling.

Marcus slowly opened the carefully wrapped present, noting with amusement that the paper was green and red, representing both Christmas and their favorite colors.

Marcus' eyes widened when he saw what Oliver had gotten him.

"How'd you know?" he gasped.

Oliver's smile widened. "You like them?"

Marcus stared in wonder at the ice skates he held in his hands. They were made of black leather with shining silver blades. His initials were engraved on the left skate in green lettering.

"I know you wanted a new pair," Oliver said.

"How?"

"You kept fiddling with the pair you have," Oliver explained, smiling. "I know you. Maroon's not really your color, is it?"

Marcus laughed. "You do know me. I love them. Thank you, love."

He leaned over and gave Oliver a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You want my present now?" he whispered.

Oliver nodded eagerly.

Marcus led a confused Oliver to the window.

"What is it?" Oliver asked.

Marcus just smiled as he pulled something from the far side of his windowsill. Oliver gasped when Marcus brought in a huge cage with a speckled grey owl in it.

"Marcus!" he exclaimed.

The Slytherin smiled. "Now you have an owl."

Oliver's eyes were wide and glowing. Overcome with joy, he wrapped his arms around Marcus and kissed him deeply. Marcus' mouth opened under his own as the two captains' tongues dueled for dominance.

It was a couple minutes later when they broke apart, breathless. Oliver laughed when he saw the owl looking at them curiously.

"Voyeur," Marcus muttered.

"Does it have a name?"

"Nope, left that for you to decide."

Oliver thought for a moment then his eyes widened.

"Chaser," he said proudly.

"Chaser?"

"It'll remind me of this other Chaser I'm kind of in love with," Oliver grinned.

Marcus smiled and rolled his eyes. "Draco was right, you Gryffindors are sappy."

Oliver pouted playfully. "Your fault for loving me."

"Guess it is."

When it came time for Draco to open Harry's present, the raven-haired boy held his breath. He had noticed that Draco purposefully left his present for last, and he hoped it wouldn't fall short.

"What did you get him, a hypogriff?" George joked as Draco lifted the heavy box.

Harry bit his lip as Draco carefully opened the present. Eyes widened in the room and many people gasped. Harry didn't hear them. He was focused on Draco's reaction.

The blond's eyes widened ever so slightly as he pulled out a brand new Quidditch broom – the Firebolt 360. Draco looked at it, his eyes wide.

"Mate," Ron gasped in wonder.

And then Harry could take Draco's silence no longer.

"Do you like it?" Harry asked nervously.

Draco let out a half-gasp.

"It's beautiful," he said, his fingers grazing over his initials, which were engraved into the broomstick. "It's… it's perfect. I can't believe you got me-"

"Are you kidding me?" Harry asked. "First of all, it's the least I could do for being an absolute twat the other day, and I wanted to get you something perfect because you're perfect, and I-"

Draco chuckled as he grabbed Harry gently by the back of the head and leaned in to kiss him. In the background, Fred and George led the round of catcalls.

"I wish this Christmas would last forever," Ron joked, slinging an arm around Hermione.

"Wishful thinking, but I can't say I don't agree with you," she said, cozying further into the blanket she was wrapped in.

Leave a review if you can! :) I really want to hear more about what you guys like, what you don't like, who you'd like to see more of, who you'd like to see less of, etc! I'm going to try to post another chapter next week.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22:**

"Mmm, why are you always so chipper in the morning?" Marcus yawned, rubbing at his eyes.

Oliver shrugged. "I like mornings."

Marcus rolled back onto his stomach. "Well I don't."

Oliver pouted and shoved Marcus' shoulder. "But I'm bored."

"Then go play with Arya."

Oliver huffed and got up off the bed. Doing so, his stomach growled.

Marcus opened one eye. "Hungry?"

Oliver nodded. "Guess so. Hey, you want to come to Honeyduke's with me?"

Marcus chuckled. "You and your chocolate."

"What's wrong with chocolate?"

"It's a wonder you're so fit," Marcus teased.

Oliver pouted. "Fine, I'll go alone."

Marcus laughed and heaved himself off the bed. "You know the house elves can make you a chocolate dessert if you want."

Oliver blinked at his boyfriend. "They can?"

"Yeah. Just name it and Zippy will whip it up in less than half an hour. He trained at the cooking school for house elves, too, so it's always amazing."

"Whoa," Oliver said in wonder.

"So?" Marcus asked, taking out his wand. "What do you want?"

"No, no, I'd hate to trouble him," Oliver said.

"Cooking's what he's employed to do," Marcus said, shrugging.

"It's all right, I can go to Honeyduke's," Oliver said guiltily.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Nonsense. You're not going out in the freezing cold for something we can make you. You like chocolate mousse right?"

Oliver's eyes widened at the thought.

Marcus smirked and performed a quick spell with his wand.

"Half an hour and it'll be here," he smiled.

Oliver grinned.

Harry pounced on Draco's broom, letting out a yell of delight.

"Harry!" Draco gasped, seeing the dark-haired boy's broom falling to the ground.

Harry's arms wrapped around Draco's waist as he laid his chin on Draco's shoulder.

"You're crazy!" Draco exclaimed. "You could have fallen!"

Harry grinned madly, the wind sweeping his hair in more directions than usual.

Draco rolled his eyes and flew around the pitch for another lap.

The pitch was located near the lake, and was part owned by the Malfoys, with several other families along the lake also holding shares of it.

Harry and Draco had planned to fly that morning, but what started as a trip planned for two ended up gathering Ron, Charlie and Seamus, who also fancied some Quidditch practice, along with Hermione and Percy, who were seated on the stands reading, insisting that they come along in case anything by way of injury occurred.

"You feel very comfortable," Harry giggled, nuzzling his nose into Draco's neck.

"You're very distracting," Draco commented with a dry laugh.

Harry had to admit that Draco was an amazing flyer. It was a wonder he hadn't tried out sooner for the Quidditch team, but the blond had insisted that he'd focused much more on his studies the last couple of years.

"Yo, dimwits!" Seamus called, flying up beside them. "You sure that broom can hold you both?"

Draco frowned. "Are you insinuating something about mine or Harry's weights?"

Seamus laughed, his freckles accentuated by the slant of sunlight that hit him.

On the other end of the pitch, Charlie was throwing some practice shots to Ron, who was playing keeper. The young redhead wanted very much to make the reserve team someday and even considered trying out the coming semester.

"Hermione! Percy!" Harry called. "You sure you don't want to join us?"

The two Gryffindors, engrossed in their books, gave Harry pointed stares.

"No, we're just here to make sure none of you ends up with a broken bone," Percy sighed.

Harry laughed as he got back onto his own broom, snitch in hand.

"Care for a race?" he winked at Draco, letting the snitch fly.

Draco grinned and the two of them were soon neck and neck in the sky. It was close, but Harry eventually latched onto the snitch with a small smile, which soon turned into a nervous one. He'd wanted to go flying, and Draco had suggested this pitch, but he wasn't sure where their relationship stood exactly in terms of Quidditch.

Draco looked at Harry knowingly and smirked.

"I won't go so easy on you next time," Draco winked, and all Harry's doubts were pushed aside.

They raced again a few more times for the snitch, and Draco caught it first numerous times. Harry didn't mind. He knew Draco was a great flyer. If he beat him sometimes, then it was because he'd been better that time. To his surprise, he felt no anger; Draco only motivated him to become better himself.

"This is delicious!" Oliver grinned as he licked his fingers.

Marcus chuckled and hugged Oliver from behind.

"Seriously, you should try some," Oliver insisted, picking up the spoon.

Marcus smirked and instead took one of Oliver's fingers in his mouth, sucking on it gently.

Oliver's gaze went from surprised to hazy.

"You're right, it does taste good," Marcus drawled softly.

The Slytherin started to pull away when Oliver leaned up and crushed his lips to his boyfriend's.

Marcus' hands found the back of Oliver's head as he maneuvered the younger boy down on the couch behind them. Oliver gasped as Marcus trailed his lips down Oliver's neck, nibbling at his earlobe. The scot grabbed his boyfriend's hand and led it to his groin.

"Someone's eager," Marcus chuckled, his breath hot on Oliver's collarbone.

Oliver gave him a pleading look. Marcus smirked, and soon, they were both naked apart from Marcus' pants, and the Slytherin was stroking Oliver's hard length painfully slowly. The Gryffindor bit his lips until he drew blood. Marcus licked a trail down Oliver's tight stomach and the latter was panting in pleasure.

Marcus sped up his hand, determined to get a sound out of the younger boy.

"Marcus…" Oliver whispered.

And then in one movement, Marcus took Oliver's length into his mouth. Oliver threw his head back and moaned, bucking upwards.

Just as Oliver could feel himself approaching his climax, Marcus stopped sucking him and instead crawled up, smirking down at his boyfriend.

"Hey!" Oliver whined in frustration.

"I gotta take a shower," Marcus said, still smiling in amusement at Oliver's flushed face.

"What?" Oliver asked, in somewhat of a daze.

"I'm meeting some guys from the Slytherin team for practice later, remember?" Marcus said, getting up off the couch. "I'm already late."

"Marcus!" Oliver gasped.

The Slytherin chuckled. "You'll survive."

"I hate you!"

"Oh no," Charlie sighed, eyeing the entrance of the pitch. They were all sitting by the stands, now, having taken a break from flying.

"What's wrong?" Seamus asked.

"Trouble," Percy said, his brow instantly furrowing.

Harry looked over to the entrance and saw Urquhart, Blaise Zabini and Terrence Higgs coming in, all dressed in their Quidditch gear. They looked up and saw the group of Gryffindors (plus one Slytherin), and Urquhart instantly looked horrified.

"Shit, will he kick us out?" Harry asked worriedly.

Draco shook his head. "I own part of this pitch and therefore have the right to invite whomsoever I wish to partake in it."

Despite his words, Draco was eyeing his housemates with a leveled, controlled gaze.

"It looks like a Slytherin team practice," Charlie commented. "Wonder where Flint is."

"Probably coming," Ron sighed, rolling his eyes.

Harry saw that Seamus had tensed considerably after seeing the Slytherins, and for a moment he did not know why until it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Before he could say anything to the Irishman, though, Terrence was flying towards them.

"Hey," he said nervously.

They all gave him tight-lipped smiles of acknowledgement before Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Hi, Terrence," she said.

Harry felt instantly guilty for acting like Terrence was some kind of enemy. The older boy had never done anything bad to him, and he was in fact probably one of the least provocative Slytherins.

"Marcus scheduled a practice for us today," he continued, his voice firm but not unkind. "You mind if we just share the field?"

Harry's eyes widened. He'd thought the Slytherins would insist they leave.

Ron thought the same too. "You're not going to kick us out?"

Terrence shrugged. "It's a free pitch for share-holders. Hi, Draco."

Draco allowed himself an amused smile. "Terrence."

"But you're Slytherins," Ron said.

"Oh, honestly, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"We're not monsters," Terrence said, sighing. "Anyway, if we kicked you out and the word reached Wood, then he'd get mad at Marcus, and Marcus would have us hanged."

They all laughed softly at this.

"How's Viktor?" Charlie asked the boy. Charlie and Viktor had been close friends for the past couple of years since Charlie had toured around north Europe and met him by chance at a Quidditch game.

Terrence smiled, though still in a controlled manner common of Slytherins. "He's wonderful."

"Good to know."

With that, Terrence nodded and flew back to his two teammates.

"Well, thank God they sent him to us and not Zabini or Urquhart," Hermione said with a little sigh of relief.

"He's the best of that lot," Ron agreed, eyeing the other two Slytherins warily.

Harry saw that Blaise had had his eyes locked on Seamus the entire time, but if the Irishman was bothered by it, he didn't show it apart from his slightly tensed frame.

"Are you all right, Shay?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, we can leave if you want," Harry said.

Seamus shook his head and put on his trademark grin. "No way. We came here to fly so we'll fly."

So the Gryffindors and Draco took to the sky again.

After a few moments, Harry felt his broom jolt backwards. He gasped, but then felt a familiar touch on his waist.

"Hi," Draco said softly.

"Are we going to make this a habit?" Harry laughed.

"You started it," Draco teased.

Marcus jumped when he felt hands wrapping around his naked waist from behind.

"Oliver! I need to get ready!"

Oliver pouted, but stepped forward into the spray of the showerhead, letting the water cascade down his shoulders.

"You can at least finish what you started," he said, then looked down. "Besides, you're…unfinished too, it seems."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "I was supposed to meet the lads at the pitch half an hour ago. I won't get any practice time if I don't leave now."

Oliver stepped forward one more time, this time pressing his whole body against Marcus. The Slytherin could feel Oliver's hardness press against his backside and he groaned.

Turning around, he growled as he crushed his lips to Oliver's. The Gryffindor smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Marcus' wet shoulders.

They pressed up against each other as Marcus laid Oliver on his back against the small bathtub. Marcus flicked his tongue out to trace Oliver's right nipple and the scot threw his head back.

"Shit, the lube's outside and so's my wand," Marcus said, his voice breathless as he was lifting Oliver's legs.

Marcus made to get out of the tub but Oliver stopped him.

"Just do it!" he whined.

"But it'll hurt," Marcus said, his usually confident features marred by concern.

"Please," Oliver gasped, writhing restlessly.

Marcus' eyes glazed over as he saw the lust reflected in his lover's gaze.

And a few moments later, he was thrusting into Oliver, at first careful not to hurt him but soon realizing that Oliver wanted it hard and fast.

"This is what you get for making me late," he bit out, grinding his hips down.

Oliver opened his mouth to reply but he could only moan.

"Fuck… I love you," Marcus gasped against Oliver's flushed skin as they both reached their climaxes together.

Oliver lay there blissfully, still coming down from his high, as Marcus got out of the tub and started to get dressed. He was halfway done buttoning his shirt when he caught Oliver's gaze and smiled fondly at the Gryffindor.

"Do you really have to go?" Oliver pouted.

Marcus smirked. "Unfortunately, yes."

He leaned down to give Oliver a loving kiss on the temple.

"I won't be too long. I love you."

Oliver's face broke out into a lopsided smile. "Love you."

"Ron! Get the door!"

"What? You get it!"

"You're closer!"

"Fred, you're impossible!"

"That's true. But get the door!"

"Fred!"

"Ron!"

Charlie rolled his eyes in amusement.

"I got it, guys."

Ron's head popped in the doorway. "Right. Thanks."

"Go back to Hermione, Ron," Charlie laughed, seeing Ron blush and disappear again.

It was New Year's Eve, and, as usual, the Weasleys were throwing a huge party in their back yard, complete with fireworks, a big buffet table that Mrs. Weasley had been working on since Christmas, and a whole lot of festive mingling.

When Charlie opened the door, his face instantly broke into a smile of welcome.

"Neville!"

"Hey, Charlie! Good to see you!" Neville smiled at him and gave him a warm hug. His date, Hannah Abbott, and her friend and housemate, Susan Bones, did the same.

"They're all in the back," Charlie said, gesturing to the back yard.

When Susan moved clear of the doorway, Charlie's eyes brightened when he saw who else was standing there.

Zacharias Smith, who was standing with Cedric, smirked knowingly when he saw the Charlie lock eyes on the Hufflepuff.

"Hey, Charlie," he said, giving the former Gryffindor a quick embrace. "I'll see myself in."

"What?" Charlie asked. "Oh! Right, of course."

Zacharias chuckled. "You too are so smitten."

Cedric and Charlie both smiled as the younger Hufflepuff disappeared in the direction of the back yard.

"Hey," Cedric said.

Charlie didn't move.

"What is it?" Cedric asked, a frown marring his brow.

"Nothing," Charlie chuckled. "You look amazing, that's all."

The Hufflepuff blushed.

"Thank you. So do you," he replied.

Charlie leaned over and gave Cedric a gentle kiss. The Hufflepuff melted into it, bringing a hand to cup Charlie's cheek.

"Ahem."

Cedric whirled around to see Jim and a couple more of Cedric's friends from the Ministry standing there with large grins on their faces.

"Getting sappy while the night's still young, Charlie?" Jim said good-humoredly.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Nice to see you too, lads."

"It's always nice to see me! Isn't that right, Ced?" Jim asked, giving Cedric a friendly pat on the back.

"No doubt about it," Cedric said with a smile.

"Now come on in before we all freeze out here," Charlie said, directing them all inside.

"Draco, please!"

"No!"

"Please!"

"What is it about the word 'No' that gives you so much trouble, Blaise?"

"Oh, come on!"

Draco stood up in frustration.

"Blaise, I can not and will not take you as my guest to Weasley's party. _I'm_ Harry's guest as it is!"

Blaise groaned. "Why not?"

"Because every one there hates your guts!"

"Well, you'll be there, and Marcus will be there… Oh, and Viktor and Terrence were invited too, right? See, four people that most certainly do not hate me."

Draco rolled his eyes as he fixed his tie in the mirror, making sure it was pristinely fixed. "Soon that will be three, because I'm close to hexing you right now."

The blond was getting ready for the party at Marcus' house, as they had planned to leave for the Burrow together. Little did Draco know that Blaise would be there to pester Draco into bringing him to the party to talk to Seamus.

"Listen, Blaise," Draco sighed, seeing the distress on the usually calm and collected Slytherin's face. "I know you want to talk to Seamus. I get it. But tonight's not the time."

"When else can I? He's been avoiding me all winter."

"Can you blame him?"

Blaise sighed into his hands. "No. But I need to speak with him. Please, Draco. Please."

Draco eyed his friend seriously. He'd never seen Blaise this upset. After a moment, he sighed again.

"Fine. You can come, but if Harry or any of the Weasleys orders you out, then you're out and no questions about it."

"Of course," Blaise nodded determinedly.

"No thank you?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Did you expect one?"

"I guess not," Draco shrugged.

"Thank you."

Draco looked up in surprise.

Blaise avoided his gaze.

"You really love him," Draco said. It was a statement, not a question.

Blaise nodded slowly.

Pansy sighed as she weaved her way through the crowd, nodding politely at guests and making small conversation with important families. Truth be told, she was bored out of her mind. Every year, her parents brought her to the nearest Slytherin family hosting a New Year's Eve bash. This time, it was the Carrows. Though she loved any excuse to dress up, she often tired of the bland mingling and forced smiles.

"Missus Parkinson?"

Pansy turned around to see a house elf looking at her with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"A man is outside and he requests to see you, madam," the house elf squeaked.

Pansy's brow furrowed. "All right. Thank you."

The house elf scurried away.

Pansy's heels clicked delicately on the marble floor as she made her way to the front entrance. Who could possibly want to see her that couldn't come inside and find her himself?

When she opened the door and slipped outside, she was instantly pulled aside and behind the foliage. Before she could yell out, she saw the identity of the man who had come to see her.

"Theo?!"

The blond Slytherin smiled slowly as his eyes twinkled with mirth.

"What are you doing here?" Pansy gasped, wrapping her arms around him. "I thought you were at the Crabbes' party?"

Theo chuckled. "No. I couldn't last another minute there. Especially since Zabini ditched me for the Weasleys."

"The Weasleys?"

"Speaking of," Theo smirked. "Want to go to their party?"

"But we're not invited!"

Theo shrugged. "Draco said we could come if we wanted. Harry said the more the merrier, so I say let's blow this joint."

Pansy laughed, her dark locks bouncing on her shoulders.

"Of course! They won't mind, though, will they?"

Theo shrugged. "They're jolly good folks. I don't think they would, and if they do we can leave. Besides, I hear they throw a wicked party. Probably not as classy as ours, but… well, you get the point because I nearly died of boredom at Crabbe's."

"I hear you," Pansy said, scrunching her nose in remembrance of what lay inside. "Let's go, then."

"All right," Theo said, smiling. "But before we go…"

"What?"

Theo leaned in to give Pansy a gentle kiss.

"Marcus! Hurry up, we're growing old here," Draco called dryly from the living room.

"I'll put you in a wheelchair myself!" was the crude response.

Draco rolled his eyes and sat back down on the expensive leather couch. Blaise sat next to him, fiddling with his hands.

"Stop fidgeting. It's annoying." Draco commented.

"Well aren't you a piece of cake today," Blaise retorted. Though his words were sharp, his eyes lacked their usual coldness.

Draco sighed. "I just want to see Harry."

Blaise smirked. "Never thought you'd be one to fall in love."

"I never thought that about you either," Draco said and Blaise tensed. "Oh, come on, Blaise. You love him."

"I don't need to be reminded of it every second, all right?" Blaise snapped.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Just then, Marcus appeared in the doorway. "You all coming or what?"

"Where's Wood?" Draco asked.

Marcus cocked his head to where Oliver was lacing his shoes.

"Sorry," Oliver squeaked when the shoelace missed a loop and he had to start over.

Draco rolled his eyes. "No wonder you Gryffindors are never on time to anything."

"He's not the one who takes two hours getting ready," Marcus deadpanned at the younger Slytherin.

Meanwhile, Oliver had finished tying the knot.

"Okay. Let's go," the scot said with a smile.

Marcus smiled fondly at him and pressed a quick kiss to his temple.

"To the Burrow."

When Harry saw Draco walking towards him, a small smile playing on his lips, his platinum blond catching the light of the lanterns placed around the back yard garden, his breath caught in his throat.

"Hello, love," Draco greeted him with a soft kiss to the cheek.

Harry's face broke into a wild smile and he threw his arms around his boyfriend.

"You look great," Harry said, eyeing the way Draco's crisp midnight blue dress shirt fit him impeccably, as usual.

"You look better," Draco replied. "Sorry I took so long. Marcus and Wood don't seem to understand the meaning of punctuality."

Harry laughed.

"I love you," he said, grinning. "You want to dance?"

Draco glanced at the romantically lit square of grass in the middle of the back yard garden. A few couples were already dancing. Though Draco was used to the fanciful dance floors of the rich Slytherin families, he found that with Harry's hand in his, the square of grass could not be any more perfect.

"I would love to."

"No way!" Pansy gasped. "They look like they're worth far more than four galleons!"

Hermione smiled, the light catching her twinkling eyes. "My mother's quite the expert shopper. She finds the best things for the lowest prices. I envy her, really."

"That's amazing," Pansy said, eyeing Hermione's delicate hoop earrings. "I wish I had that ability."

"I'll take you with us shopping one day," Hermione said, nodding as if to accentuate the good idea.

"Really?" Pansy exclaimed. "That would be lovely!"

"It would indeed," Hermione laughed. "We'll set a date."

"Definitely."

"Hey," Ron said as he came over with drinks, offering one to Pansy and one to his girlfriend.

"Thank you," Pansy said. Her usually masked, schooled smile was loose and carefree.

Ron chuckled inwardly as he saw how Hermione and Pansy interacted. Yes, he admitted to himself, he was on the suspicious side when it came to any of the Slytherins. But seeing how happy Draco and Marcus had made Harry and Oliver, and how fun and enjoyable people like Pansy and Theodore, who he had conversed with only minutes before, were, Ron had to admit that they weren't so bad.

"So you really replaced his hair gel with super glue?" Theodore gasped between bouts of laughter on the other end of the yard.

"Ahh, not just _super_ glue," Fred smirked.

"Oh. no, not just _super_ glue," George continued.

"Wizarding super glue," they finished, their eyes twinkling maniacally.

"You two are evil masterminds," Theodore shook his head in amusement.

"Why thank you," Fred said slyly.

Ron smiled. Yeah. Definitely not that bad.

"How do you get this thing to light?" Draco asked, his nose scrunching in confusion.

Harry smiled as he came over to wrap his arms around his lover from behind.

"Don't tell me you've never lit a firecracker," he smirked.

Draco frowned and Harry laughed.

"The house elves light all the fireworks at our parties!" Draco protested, fiddling with the stick in his hands.

Meanwhile, Marcus, who stood beside Draco, groaned in frustration when another spell he tried didn't work on his own firecracker.

"You Slytherins are impossible," Harry chuckled. He grabbed a firecracker from the table and lit it with ease.

"There must be something wrong with mine," Draco concluded.

"Mine's defected," Marcus snapped.

Oliver came by just then, a drink in one hand and a firecracker – very much lit – in the other.

"You having trouble, babe?" Oliver failed to contain his smile as he saw the Slytherins struggle.

"No, but this firecracker will see trouble when I'm done with it," Marcus said.

"Aw," Oliver teased as he gave his boyfriend a soft kiss on the cheek. "Here, I'll set it for you."

He set his drink down and lit Marcus' firecracker with an amused smile.

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed.

Harry rolled his eyes and set Draco's alight.

"There, happy?" he said teasingly.

Draco blinked.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Nothing. It's just… quite lovely. The firecracker, I mean," the blond replied, his eyes dancing on the sparkling flame of light in his hands.

Harry's gaze melted into fondness.

"I love you," he said.

Draco looked up and smiled.

"I love you too."

Later into the night, Harry and Draco were dancing under the stars, cherishing the time they had with those closest to them. Harry looked around smiling. Cedric and Charlie were dancing to their left, Oliver and Marcus to their right. Viktor and Terrence had apparated back to Terrence's house a few minutes ago, but not before a round of catcalls came their way. Ron and Hermione had retired earlier to the living room, but Pansy and Theodore were still dancing, and so were Fred and Angelina, and George and Alicia. Percy had even asked Penelope to dance, much to the glee of the twins and Oliver, who'd been rooting for the two of them to "just get it on, already." Even Molly and Arthur were dancing. It was the perfect night.

Just as Harry was about to whisper something into his lover's ear, he froze in his tracks.

"What is it?" Draco asked, frowning.

"Isn't that…"

Draco glanced behind him and then bit his lip hard. He recognized his best friend lurking behind the flower arrangements that lined the back of the Burrow.

"Zabini?!" Harry whispered harshly.

"Look…I can explain," Draco said hastily.

"It better be a good explanation!"

"Right. It will be. You see, I vehemently told Blaise not to come. But, well, he begged me to take him…"

" _You're_ the one who brought him here?" Harry gasped.

"Well… yes, but you see, he wanted to talk to Finnigan," Draco said, his usually self-assured tone growing less and less confident.

"Why in the world should you have let him come because of that?"

Draco sighed. "He's the reason we talked things out, remember? That time we fought after the attack on the Quidditch field?"

Harry looked at Draco and blinked. That was true. He sighed.

"I know that."

"Listen…I never meant to cause trouble. If you want him to leave, I will tell him to," Draco said quickly. "I just thought that… well, he's my friend. I wanted to help him out. He's in love with Finnigan."

"Funny way of showing it," Harry frowned, but then sighed and nodded in understanding. "I understand why you did it, though. If he was Ron I'd do the same thing."

Draco smiled slowly, showing Harry he was grateful for his understanding.

"But if he causes Seamus any trouble I'll kick him out," Harry said seriously.

"If he causes Finnigan any trouble, _I'll_ kick him out myself," Draco promised.

Harry smiled.

"Is he going to talk to Seamus?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"I think so," Draco nodded.

"Well, there he is," Harry gestured behind Draco, where Seamus had come out of the Burrow and was walking to where Fred and George stood with their dates and a couple of Hufflepuffs beside the punch bowl.

Draco glanced at Blaise, whose eyes were trained on the Irishman's figure.

"Listen…" Harry began.

"What is it?"

"Blaise might want to be quick about apologizing to Shay."

"Why is that?"

"Well, I've heard that someone else is interested in him," Harry said.

"Who?" Draco frowned.

"Uh, well, see for yourself?" Harry winced.

Draco turned around as the two stopped dancing.

As Seamus laughed at something George had said, Zacharias Smith approached him from behind.

"Seamus?" he said.

The Irishman turned around, drink in hand.

"Hey, Zach," he said with a smile.

"Hey," Zacharias said with a nervous chuckle.

"What's up?"

"Want to dance?"

Seamus blinked.

"With me," Zacharias added quickly.

Seamus let out a disbelieving exhale.

"Sure," he said, his eyes brightening.

Zacharias' face broke into a bright smile as he offered a hand that Seamus took in his own.

"Oh dear me," Draco said, his brow furrowed in concern.

Harry smiled when he saw Seamus' eyes light up. He hadn't looked that happy since he'd been with Blaise.

"He looks so happy," he commented.

"Yes," Draco nodded absently.

He looked behind him, searching again for Blaise. His heart dropped a little when he saw his best friend's eyes lock onto his ex-lover', dimmed with suppressed pain, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Blaise looked away from Seamus but instead caught Draco's gaze. Draco immediately walked over to him.

"Blaise," he began.

"Forget it, Draco," Blaise shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I really am."

"For what?" Blaise asked, his eyes squinted in a way that made him look disoriented. "I cheated on him."

"I know," Draco nodded. "But you love him."

Blaise shrugged. "Doesn't matter now."

"Of course it does," Draco frowned. "If he knew that, maybe he would…"

"What? Love me back?" Blaise shook his head. "I _cheated_ on him. He can't love me back."

"You don't choose who you fall in love with, Blaise."

"Whatever," Blaise said before he turned around and started walking in the direction of the nearest exit.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked.

"Home. Anywhere."

"TEN… NINE…"

Harry smiled as Draco wrapped his arms around him and pressed a loving kiss to the side of his head.

"Thank you for being in my life," the blond whispered.

"Thank you for loving me," Harry replied. "And for turning into a complete sap."

Draco smirked.

"EIGHT…"

Cedric cuddled up closer to Charlie on the rocking couch they were sitting on as they watched the fireworks light up the sky from the terrace.

"Merlin, you're beautiful," Charlie said as he glanced down at his lover.

"I love you, Charlie," Cedric replied with a smile.

"SEVEN…"

Terrence threw his head back with a moan as Viktor pounded into him hard and fast.

"Fuck!" he screamed. "Harder!"

Viktor smiled as he complied with his lover's wishes. The Slytherin thrashed his head back and forth, his body reeling with pleasure.

"I love you," Viktor whispered between gasps as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Terrence's head.

"SIX…"

Theodore pressed his forehead to Pansy's, smiling as he gazed into her gentle yet challenging gaze.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Theodore said.

"Of course I do," Pansy retorted cheekily. "But only when I'm with you. Thank you for bringing me here tonight."

"I wanted you to have a great New Year's."

"You could've taken me anywhere as long as I was with you," Pansy said as she leaned in to give Theodore a kiss on the cheek.

"FIVE…"

Percy blushed when Penelope took his hands in hers.

"So…" Penelope began.

Percy looked at her, biting his lip.

"I kind of like you," Penelope said as she looked up.

Percy let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I kind of like you too."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "I know that."

"What?"

"You may be a genius, Perce, but you're not exactly subtle."

"FOUR…"

Fred smiled a lopsided smile as he linked his fingers with Angelina's.

"You ever think George will get the hint and ask Alicia out?" he asked.

Angelina laughed. "He's your brother. You should give him a little shove."

"THREE…"

"Hey Alicia! George likes you!" Fred shouted.

George's eyes widened impossibly, while Alicia let out an amused laugh.

"Um… I…" George scrambled for words.

"Oh, silly," Alicia rolled her eyes. "I like you too, Mr. Oblivious."

"I… you… what?"

"TWO…"

Oliver's eyes glowed as he watched the fireworks explode again and again before his eyes. Marcus couldn't help but shake his head in amusement as he directed his broom beside his lover's in the air.

"You're just like a little kid," Marcus said in amusement.

"You love it," Oliver teased.

"That's true," Marcus said.

Oliver smiled as he leaned his head against Marcus' shoulder.

"ONE…"

"Happy New Year!"

Hope you liked this chapter! Please leave a review if you can :) I love hearing peoples' thoughts. The next chapter will start with school back in session, and I'm interested to know what you all would like to see more/less of. The last few chapters have been pretty fluffy and feel-good, but Voldemort is definitely going to have a bigger presence moving forward... :)


	23. Chapter 23

Sorry this chapter is a little shorter than usual! I'm already working on the next one and it will be longer :) Enjoy!

Chapter 23:

Harry smiled as he walked into the Great Hall hand in hand with Draco. The hall was decked in its usual start-of-term state of glamour, with gold trussing lining the walls and the classic starlight charm overhead.

 _So much has changed since the start of last term,_ Harry mused, glancing over at his blond lover.

As the couple reached their usual place at the Gryffindor table and sat down, Harry glanced around at all the happy faces. Life was very much looking up for him and lot of his friends. Seamus and Dean were laughing, tears streaming down their cheeks, as they attempted – and failed repeatedly – to turn Dean's goblet of pumpkin juice into brandy. Next to them, Hermione and Ron were in deep discussion, culminating in Ron pouting and Hermione playfully hitting her boyfriend across the head. Across from Harry and Draco, Oliver and Jack were talking Quidditch, with Jack insisting one thing and Oliver insisting the opposite, which was the nature of many of their good-humored sports debates. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table and, just in time, saw Marcus catch Oliver's eye and give him a mischievous wink, to which Oliver responded with a large smile.

Harry sighed in content as he dug into his meal.

"So, I hear Dumbledore's got a big announcement," Ron said.

"I wonder what it could be," Neville said worriedly.

"Hopefully nothing You-Know-Who related," Dean chimed in cautiously.

A brief silence lingered before Dumbledore took the podium and cleared his voice.

"Good evening, students of Hogwarts, and welcome back! I trust you all had wonderful winter holidays. And on behalf of myself and the staff, we wish you a belated Happy Christmas and New Year's."

Harry smiled as the memories of New Year's Eve came back to him. Draco, the fireworks, dancing… it was perfect.

"Now, on to business. I do have a huge announcement to make – one that may not be such a surprise to you all. Last semester, as you know, Lord Voldemort invaded Durmstrang. As of now, he is still instated as its headmaster, but over 50% of the school's original student body has withdrawn. Prioritizing the wellbeing of young witches and wizards throughout the wizarding world, Hogwarts has offered to take in some of these former Durmstrang students as full time Hogwarts residents."

The hall immediately erupted in whispers and gasps – some excited, others worried. Harry, for one, was quite pleased. Every witch and wizard deserved an education free from the grasp of the Dark Lord.

"I know this comes as a shock to some of you, but we hope that you can all be trusted to give these students – who have suffered a grievous trauma in losing not only their school but many of their loved ones – a safe and secure place to live and learn," Dumbledore continued. "Now, on that note, please welcome our soon-to-be students, formerly of Durmstrang!"

The doors opened, and in walked a long line of tall wizards – some young, some older, all of them with their shoulders set and eyes a mixture of determined and uncertain. Harry recognized the looks in their eyes. They were scared – they'd suffered – but they were determined not to show it.

"Looks like it'll be a full house this term," Draco chuckled softly in Harry's ear.

Harry smiled in amusement. The students lined up one by one to be sorted into their houses, as the rest of the students continued talking amongst themselves. Professor McGonagall stood with a long parchment and read the students' names out one by one.

"James Richter."

Gryffindor.

"Colin Hill."

Ravenclaw.

"Daniel Grey."

Oliver's head shot up at the name. _Shit,_ he thought. _Are you kidding me?_ He looked to the front of the room, and surely enough, he saw the devilish eyes of the man who had not only blatantly and vulgarly flirted with Oliver, but had insulted both Marcus and the keeper's relationship with him.

"Slytherin!"

Oliver sighed and glanced over at Marcus at the Slytherin table nervously.

Marcus returned Oliver's glance with a lopsided smile. He was obviously trying to reassure the scot, but Oliver could tell that his lover was worried himself. Oliver chuckled inwardly when he saw both Adrian and Terrence, who flanked Marcus, already glaring daggers at Slytherin's newest member.

 _He's in for a terrible surprise if he wants to mess with any one of us,_ Oliver thought, his eyes narrowed in determination.

Gasps and whispers of delight started around the room, and Oliver tried to see over Jack's head what was going on. When he realized, he smiled and glanced to the Slytherin table, where Terrence Higgs' face had split into an uncharacteristically large smile.

"It's Krum!" Ron gasped.

"It's about time he made the move official," Percy commented.

And sure enough, there was the tall Bulgarian making his way out of the crowd to the sorting hat. He had a small smile on his face, acknowledging the warm welcome he was getting from his very soon to be peers. They had all grown fond of him in the term he'd spent with them.

"Slytherin!"

Viktor's smile widened as he glanced over to give Terrence a wink.

"Well, this term's shaping up to be a great one," Seamus said, smiling wistfully.

Dean glanced over at his best friend, giving him a sympathetic smile. Harry did the same.

"It will be," Hermione chimed in with a reassuring look. "I can tell already."

* * *

"To a wonderful term, everybody!" Seamus hollered, raising his mug of butterbeer.

Laughter erupted from the crowd of students gathered in the Gryffindor common room, celebrating the last night before classes began.

"Full of happiness, bloody good Quidditch matches, and the lot; am I right, lads?" Ron laughed, clinking his glass to Seamus', causing butterbeer to spill to the crimson carpets.

"And good grades!" Hermione chimed in with a half-teasing look of disapproval gracing her features.

"Oh, you hardly need a toast to ensure yourself good grades, Granger," Draco said, rolling his eyes though they twinkled with amusement. He had his arm slung casually over Harry's shoulder as the two of them lounged on the entire length of the couch.

Seamus and Dean were working the drinks table, with Dean only half trying to tame Seamus' natural tendency to mix feverishly strong drinks together. Hermione was chatting with Pansy, who proved a witty and intelligent conversation partner, while Ron continued to beat a very, very determined Theodore at chess. Lavender, Parvati and Padma were teaching an uncharacteristically drunk Neville how to dance without stepping all over his own toes. And on the other side of the room, Jack had opened the window and begun broomstick races – from their tower to the Ravenclaw tower and back – with Katie, Angelina, Fred and George. Percy could barely cast enough protective charms and spells to keep up with them between his bouts of laughter. The night was alive and everyone was full of laughter.

"This night is perfect," Draco said, looking over at his boyfriend lovingly. "I never thought I would say that in the Gryffindor common room."

"Well, we Gryffindors know how to show you grumpy Slytherins a good time," Harry teased, giving Draco a quick peck on the cheek.

Draco chuckled softly, once again looking around at the crowd of people.

Harry's eyes flickered. "I'm sorry Blaise isn't here."

Draco shrugged immediately. "Hey, don't worry about it."

"I know he's your best friend."

"He hurt Seamus. There are consequences to actions like those. And one of them is not being able to attend a gathering like this without stirring something up."

"I mean… he could come. He's not banned."

Draco rolled his eyes in amusement. "Well, I wouldn't let him."

"Why not?"

"If you haven't noticed, love," Draco continued with a smirk, "And I won't ever confess to saying this, but I've grown quite fond of Finnigan."

"Wow," Harry teased, laughing, "The cold, cool, Slytherin is warming up to the Pixie, huh?"

"He's… tolerable," Draco said, rolling his eyes with a smile. "But I wouldn't want to cause him any hurt, and I know Blaise's presence would do that."

Harry smiled. "I love you, you know that?"

Draco chuckled. "I love you too."

"And you're right about Blaise," Harry sighed. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"Don't think on it, love," Draco smiled. "Blaise hasn't been himself in a while, and that's something he'll have to sort out on his own."

"Yeah," Harry said. "You're right."

"Hey, Harry!" Jack hollered from the window. "Where's Ollie?"

Harry laughed, seeing Jack's adrenaline-glazed eyes blazing at him. Jack didn't even wait for a response, jetting off on his broomstick with Percy calling after him in exasperation.

"No doubt he's with Flint," Draco smirked.

"Oh, most definitely."

* * *

A loud thump jolted Oliver from his deep slumber. He sat up and looked around in confusion, trying to remember the night before. Hang on… Hadn't he been with Marcus? Just as panic began to set in, his mind cleared and he realized what had happened. The couple had flown around on their brooms after hours with Viktor and Terrence, and Marcus must have decided that Oliver had had too much to drink. Oliver grinned as he vaguely remembered his head lolling on Marcus' strong shoulders. Surely enough, when Oliver rolled over, he saw a note Marcus had left him – _Had an early class, didn't want to wake you. Sober up. Love, M._

Oliver smiled at the note, but before he could get out of bed, he finally noticed the time. It was ten minutes past… ten. Ten minutes past the start of his Transfigurations class. _Shit._

He scrambled out of bed, and nearly tripped over a half naked body leaping out of the bed next to him.

"Oliver!"

"Jack!"

"Class!"

"I know!"

"Right now!"

"Ten minutes ago, actually!"

"Shit!"

"Well, let's bloody get going then!"

"Right!"

The two sprinted to class as fast as their legs could take them. Oliver was already picturing the look on McGonagall's face, not to mention the looks he'd be getting from the Slytherin students, who shared their class today. The two Quidditch players slowed to a halt in front of the classroom and opened the door apprehensively, both their faces already wracked with guilt.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Wood, Mr. Sloper," Professor McGonagall said, eyeing them sharply.

"Sorry, professor," they both said in unison, out of breath from their mad sprinting.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall continued, clicking her tongue. "Now I trust you can find your seats without a problem, can you not?"

They both nodded immediately and sat together in the back row. Oliver put his head down, steadying his hands. _Damn,_ he thought, _I really shouldn't have drunk that much._

When he looked up at the board, however, he was instantly cheered up by the sight of Marcus, who sat a few rows in front of him, giving him an amused grin.

"Your fault," Oliver mouthed teasingly.

Marcus chuckled inwardly and rolled his eyes. Oliver smiled contently, and quickly realized that he no longer felt insanely uncomfortable around the Slytherins. He'd been late to class plenty of times before, and every single time, he'd been stared down by every Slytherin in the room. Now, he knew and liked most of the Slytherins there, and they all regarded him with some form of respect, especially because of what he meant to Marcus. Well, also because they'd get a nice black eye if they ever spoke against him around their Quidditch captain. Oliver looked around the room and saw Viktor and Terrence sitting together, Daphne leaning back to give him a sympathetic smile, Adrian chuckling at Jack's obvious display of tiredness… They all actually liked each other.

"Page thirty-four," Percy hissed.

"What?" Oliver asked.

"Turn to page thirty-four," Percy whispered in exasperation. "Honestly, Oliver."

"Sorry, I'm hungover!" Oliver protested, doing the best pout he could.

"I can see that," Percy deadpanned.

"Love you, Perce," Oliver smiled sweetly.

Percy sighed, though his glare softened.

"Page what, again?" Oliver asked, looking down at his book.

"Oh for Merlin's sake."

* * *

"Oliver!"

Oliver turned around in his seat to see Marcus bounding over to the Gryffindor table.

"Hey baby," he greeted him.

Marcus gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek.

"So, Hooch says we might have to share the pitch during tryouts today," Marcus said. His eyes, though set and determined, were a little uncertain. Oliver could see that his boyfriend didn't want anything Quidditch related to come in between them, especially with the finals coming up, and appreciated the concern.

"That's fine," Oliver said, and Marcus relaxed.

"Oi, Flint!" Fred called from the Gryffindor table. "When that tosser of a Grey tries out, can I send a bludger his way?"

Marcus looked at Fred with disguised amusement.

Oliver laughed. "Apparently Daniel and Fred butted heads a little in class today."

"Butted heads?" George protested. "He was an utter jerk. Isn't that right, Perce?"

Percy, who normally steered clear of conflict, put down the book he was reading.

"I don't fancy the boy's manners one bit," the redhead said.

"Hey Fred," Marcus called back. "If you can make it look like an accident, go for it."

Fred's face broke into an ear splitting grin. "I like you more and more, Flint."

Marcus rolled his eyes.

"I have to get back to my team, but I'll see you out there, love," Marcus told Oliver.

"Alright," the Gryffindor captain replied, smiling.

* * *

On the other side of the Gryffindor table, Harry frowned when he saw Seamus picking at his food with a fork, nervously moving the scrambled eggs around his plate. Though Seamus and Zacharias hadn't lasted too long—the two split on good terms—the Irishman had been doing better since his discovery of Blaise's unfaithfulness. Dean had been a huge help. But now, fidgeting in his seat, the Irishman seemed jittery. Though he had reason to be, with the Quidditch tryouts coming up in a few hours, Harry knew there was something more on his mind.

"Hey, Shay," Harry said, sitting down next to him. "You all pumped up?"

"Hey Harry," Seamus replied, smiling. Though anyone else would think his smile was genuine, Harry knew better. He knew there was sadness lacing his friend's usually bright eyes. "I guess so."

"Oh, come on, Shay," Harry chuckled. "You and Dean are a shoe-in for reserve chasers. You just have to focus."

Seamus exhaled, and to Harry's relief, some of the tension seemed to leave his body.

"Yeah, you're right, mate," he said, a little more determinedly. "I just… You know, with Slytherin being in the finals and all. I don't even know if me trying out is the best idea…"

"Stop it," Harry interrupted immediately. "I know this is about Blaise, Shay, but you can't let him stop you from doing something you want to do. If you make the team, and if you play in the finals, you're going to be amazing, regardless of Zabini's presence on the other team."

Seamus blinked at him.

"You are an amazing chaser, Shay. Just remember that."

The Irishman finally smiled that mischievous smile that Harry knew and loved.

"Thank you Harry. You're right."

"You're bloody right I am," Harry smirked.

"You're getting good at that smirk," Seamus laughed.

"What can I say, I learn from the best."

* * *

"Hermione!" Pansy called excitedly from the stands, making her way over to the Gryffindor.

"Hey, Pansy," Hermione smiled. The two had grown quite close over the past few months. Hermione found Pansy a much better companion than most of the Gryffindor girls of their year, who'd much rather talk about hair and nails than anything remotely intellectual.

"Thank Merlin you're here," Pansy sighed. "I thought I'd have to suffer from the stands alone in this heat."

Hermione laughed. "Is Theo trying out?"

"Yes, for reserve chaser," Pansy nodded. "And Ron's going for reserve keeper, right?"

"Yeah. He's got pretty tough competition, though."

"McLaggen?"

Hermione nodded.

"Oh, he's an idiot," Pansy said with a wave of her hand. "He'll probably be too busy staring at his own reflection in the lining of his gloves to catch anything coming his way."

Hermione couldn't help the burst of laughter that came out of her.

"Good luck, love," Harry said one last time as Draco prepared to mount his broom.

Draco smiled. He was nervous, but his Slytherin poise didn't let him show it.

"Thank you," Draco said sincerely.

"I love you so much," Harry replied. "I know you'll make it."

"I love you too."

* * *

Hermione and Pansy sat on the stands, amusing themselves with everything they saw happening on the field. It turns out that Pansy was correct, and Cormac McLaggen was defeated by his own ego. He saved the first two quaffles successfully, then grew complacent, and did not expect Katie's last three throws to be wicked curve balls. He fumbled all three tries. Ron, on the other hand, was much more focused, and though he didn't glide around with as much confidence as McLaggen, he saved all five quaffles with a quiet determination. The spot on the team was his.

Hermione couldn't help but smile in relief.

"Told you," Pansy nudged her with a wink.

"Looking good, Wood!" came a catcall from the Slytherin side of the field.

Hermione laughed when she saw Viktor and Terrence whistling at the Gryffindor keeper as he did his routine loops around the hoops. Marcus rolled his eyes in amusement, but everyone there could see the hint of pride when he watched his boyfriend fly.

Meanwhile, Theodore was absolutely wiping the floor clean for reserve chaser. No other Slytherin trying out could keep up with him. Daniel, who was trying out for chaser himself, was broodily sulking on the sidelines.

"Your man's got that in the bag," Hermione said.

"Oh, I know," Pansy said mischievously.

"Is Viktor not trying out?" Hermione asked. She realized how awkward that could turn out, with Terrence and Viktor, who were still very much dating, both being Slytherin seekers.

Pansy shook her head. "There's a rule against professional Quidditch players playing on school teams. It gives the house an unfair advantage, supposedly. Viktor's fine with it, though. He's got a lot of practices with his national team anyway."

"Lovely," Hermione said. Things seemed to be working out for everyone this term.

* * *

Hermione couldn't help but grin as she saw Harry trying to hide his glances over at Draco. Hermione herself had grown fond of the blond, and smiled when he caught the snitch faster than any other player who had tried out.

"Oh, no," Pansy said, biting her lip.

"What?" Hermione said.

"Seamus is trying out right now…"

"I know, I see–"

"And look at Blaise."

Hermione glanced over at the Slytherin and immediately saw what Pansy meant. His eyes were dead set on the Irishman, following his every move. His gaze was so intense, it was sure to throw Seamus off if he looked that way.

"The luck of the Irish," Pansy said with a grin when Seamus finished his tryout without looking anywhere but the sky immediately in front of him. His fly time was just a second short of Dean's, but the two boys—as everyone expected—took the two reserve chaser positions.

At the end of the tryouts, Hermione and Pansy parted ways to congratulate their respective boyfriends.

"I was scared for my life, honestly!" Ron said with a laugh of disbelief.

"You did brilliantly," Hermione beamed.

"Hey, Harry, turn around!" Katie giggled.

Harry turned around to see Draco flying over, a big smile on his face.

"I told you you'd make it," Harry said as they embraced in mid air.

"I love you," Draco whispered, barely containing his excitement. "I love you."

Harry smiled fiercely.

* * *

"Where's Harry?" George called, filling Angelina's cup with more butterbeer.

"With Draco, I think," Ron said, followed by a burp.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

"Sorry!" Ron laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stay mad.

The Gryffindor common room was alive, with all the new Quidditch team members enjoying butterbeer and chocolate frogs by the fire.

"I'd just like to thank everyone who tried out," Oliver said at the foot of the fireplace. "And everyone who made it, I look forward to training with you. Welcome to the team!"

Cheers followed his words.

"Yeah, you lot get ready for Oliver's crazy training sessions!" Fred said.

"He'll work you all dry," George added mischievously.

Oliver chuckled, a maniacal glint in his eyes.

Just then, Percy walked into the common room and his eyes widened.

"Curfew is in ten minutes!" he gasped.

"Oh, lighten up, Perce!" Fred and George said in unison.

Percy glared at them. "Come on, everyone off to bed. Jack, put your shirt back on. Fred and George, please dispose of the butterbeer before I report you. Seamus, Dean, clean up that mess."

Everyone pouted at Percy, but knew he was right. They couldn't afford to get into any trouble with McGonagall.

"Where's Harry?" Percy sighed in exasperation.

"With Draco, of course," Seamus laughed.

"Well, he better either stay the night or be back here within the next seven minutes," Percy sighed.

"Sorry, Perce," Oliver said, bounding down the staircase. He felt bad sometimes for making his best friend stress out, especially because as the captain of the Gryffindor team, he knew his group of friends could cause a lot of wild ruckus.

"It's okay, Ollie," Percy said. "I'm used to it. It's the price I pay being friends with you bumbling baboons."

"It's worth it though, right?"

"Of course," Percy said with a tired, but sincere, smile. "Now off to bed before I hex you."

* * *

Seamus yawned, stretching like a cat as he got out of bed. The floor was ice cold beneath his feet, and he briefly thought of simply jumping back to bed and waiting until the morning for the toilet.

He sighed and made his way to the bathroom anyway, grinning when he saw the bottles of butterbeer littered across the floor. He was pretty sure if he lifted Dean's blanket, he'd see even more bottles his best friend had hoarded.

He walked past Neville's bed and saw that he was clearly snoring, though he'd been kind enough to remember the silencing charm. Ron, in the bed next to Neville's, had been neatly tucked in on his side by Hermione, and Seamus even noticed that Hermione had sprayed something that smelled like lavender in the air to help him sleep.

As he passed the window by the bathroom, he peered out just in time to see Marcus Flint outside, hovering on his broom. He dipped his broom down gently and led himself to the window of the room next door, which Oliver shared with Percy, Jack, and a few other Gryffindors. The window opened, and Seamus caught a glimpse of the Gryffindor captain smiling and pulling his boyfriend in.

Seamus smiled, almost sadly, as he remembered his late night escapades with Blaise. He'd tried to push the older boy out of his mind since winter break, but he often found himself longing for the other boy's presence.

 _He cheated on you,_ he said to himself astutely.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Seamus opened the door to the bathroom and turned the faucet on to wash his face.

He hissed when his fingers touched the water. It was boiling.

"What in Merlin's name..." he whispered, looking at the tap in confusion

* * *

Harry leapt onto Draco's back playfully, stumbling off with a chuckle. Draco took his boyfriend's hands into his own, and kissed him with a smile as they walked down the hallway.

"Now come on, it's past curfew already," Draco chuckled softly.

The couple turned the corner and immediately came to a shocked halt, as flames reflected in their eyes. The Fat Lady was on fire.

"Harry!" she cried hysterically. "Fiendfyre in the dormitory! Fiendfyre! Fiendfyre!"

"Oh Merlin no," Harry gasped.


	24. Chapter 24

I'm sorry this chapter is a little shorter than the rest, and, like the previous chapter, not my best work. Though life's slowed down for me a little bit, I'm having a bit of a writer's block. But I figured it's better to put out shorter chapters than none at all! Hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 24:

Marcus woke up frowning. It only took him a few seconds to notice that he was sweating profusely. Beside him, Oliver was fast asleep, but when Marcus touched his lover's forehead, he could feel Oliver burning up as well.

"What the…" he said, vaguely registering that the room was foggy and the air grey. He got up, and, with alarm, noticed that smoke was billowing from the cracks in the door that led out to the hallway.

Marcus wasted no time.

"Oliver, Oliver, wake up," he said immediately, shaking the scot roughly.

"Wh-" Oliver said, his eyes opening blearily before he registered the sheer panic on his boyfriend's face. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice rising in panic as he noticed the smoke building up in the room.

"It's a fire. There's a fire in the hallway," Marcus said, pointing to the door. "Get up, out of bed."

"Oliver?!"

Beside the Quidditch captains, Percy had emerged from his bed.

"Oh my _God,_ " the redhead gasped, rushing over to wake Jack.

"How did this happen?!" Oliver asked, his mind not quite catching up with the dreadful reality facing him.

Jack coughed, his body heaving, as he breathed in the smoke. His bed was closest to the door.

"Everyone out the window," Marcus said, reaching for his and Oliver's brooms, which were leaning against the far wall of the bedroom.

Through his panic, Oliver could appreciate the Slytherin's quick thinking.

"No," Percy said suddenly.

"What?" Marcus asked him, and Oliver couldn't tell if his boyfriend was squinting in confusion or because the room was getting steadily more hazy.

"We have to get Ron, and the twins, and…"

"Are you crazy?!" Jack asked. "That door's the only thing standing between us and becoming bloody fried. Like, literally."

"I know, but—"

Jack let out a shout when the door to the hallway blasted open, the flames bursting forward in an explosion of light and fire.

* * *

Harry and Draco were still frozen in shock when Dumbledore and McGonagall swept past them.

 _Fiendfyre,_ Harry kept thinking to himself, his heart beating unbearably in his chest, _Ron, Hermione, Oliver... Oh no…_

"Malfoy, Potter, evacuate this area immediately!" Dumbledore shouted at them.

"Minerva!" he called, when the two boys didn't move.

"Come on boys," McGonagall insisted, ushering them down the hallway. "Head for the viaduct courtyard."

"But—

"No buts, Potter," McGonagall said, a glint of hardness in her eyes. Harry could see fear in them too, but was reassured by her calm and confident presence.

Draco had finally found his voice and took Harry's hand.

"Come on," he said.

Harry looked at him, his eyes wild with worry.

"They're all in there… Everyone… I—"

"I know, love," Draco soothed him. "But there's nothing we can do right now, we've got to let the professors handle it."

Harry took a few steadying breaths. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Adrian asked as he made his way through the crowd gathering in the viaduct courtyard.

"Oh, Ade, thank Merlin," Daphne said, running over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck in relief. "I was looking everywhere for you when the evacuation order was called."

"I was in the kitchens with Viktor and Terrence," Adrian explained, intertwining his fingers with Daphne's. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Daphne said, her eyes blazing with worry. "We were just told to—"

"There was a Fiendfyre cast in the Gryffindor dorms!"

Adrian turned around wildly to see Harry and Draco make their way into the crowd, with Professor Snape and Professor Sprout behind him, ushering the crowd to calm down.

"What?" Adrian yelled. When he met eyes with Harry, he knew how serious it was.

"Where's Marcus?" Daphne gasped suddenly.

Adrian shut his eyes in dread. "When we left for the kitchens, he told us he was going to Oliver's."

"Shit," Terrence said.

"Oh Merlin!" someone cried.

The crowd shifted wildly, and Adrian kept his head up to see what everyone was looking at. The Gryffindor tower came into view around the corner, and he stared in horror as he saw white-hot flames reflecting on the windows.

Suddenly, they all heard glass shattering, and then all too soon, a handful of Gryffindors piled out of the window, some on brooms, others jumping for dear life. Snape snapped into action swiftly, and cast the charm to slow their descents.

Adrian surged forward, along with many other students. He instantly recognized Hermione and Dean, Parvati and Neville… Cormac McLaggen jumped shortly after them… And then there was Ron, Angelina, and the twins… but no Marcus, and no Oliver.

Harry ran forward and embraced a stricken Hermione and a shaking Ron. Their faces were grey with smoke, and Ron had lost half his jumper to the flames themselves.

Just as Harry was about to help Ron up to his feet, he let out a harrowing scream and fell to his knees.

"Harry?!"

* * *

"Percy, watch out!" Oliver screamed, pushing Percy out of the way of a tumbling piece of ceiling wood.

Percy gasped, his wand shaking in his grasp.

"Aguamenti!" he shouted at the flames enveloping the nearest wall. The water spurted out of his wand, but barely dented the massive fire that was still roaring.

"Don't fucking _do_ that to me!" Marcus yelled, catching Oliver as he stumbled and wrapping his arms around him as if to shield him ever so slightly from the heat.

"Merlin," Oliver gasped, looking around them hopelessly. The fire was everywhere.

"Where is everyone?" Percy asked worriedly but with a set determination. Percy, Oliver, Jack, and Marcus had tried to clear the hallway so they could get to the other dormitory rooms, but had only successfully gotten to two of them before the flames became too much.

"Some of them jumped out the window," Oliver replied. "I saw them, before my path to the windows was cut off."

"Did Ron make it? The twins?" Percy asked.

"I saw the twins jump, I didn't see Ron," Marcus said quickly.

Percy's breathing quickened. "We have to find Ron and get out of here."

"No kidding."

* * *

Draco gasped as he saw Harry crumble to the ground. He instantly rushed forward to hold him, cradling the younger boy against his chest.

"Harry, what's wrong?!" he asked, panicked. "Are you hurt?!"

Harry cried out again, this time reaching up to touch the scar on his forehead.

"Shit," Ron said, his eyes widening in realization. "It's You-Know-Who."

"Harry!" Draco said, his voice rising in panic.

Madame Pomfrey had to practically yank Harry out of Draco's grasp, muttering a healing spell. Though Harry's breathing slowed, his eyes were still squinting in pain.

"I… I see him…" Harry whispered, his voice barely audible.

"See what, Harry?" Hermione asked, her eyes wild with worry.

"Voldemort," Harry continued, before his mouth opened in another screech.

"Can't you stop his pain?!" Draco asked Madame Pomfrey, who was still brandishing her wand an ongoing healing spell.

"I'm using the strongest numbing spell in the Wizarding World, Mr. Malfoy," she said gravely.

Harry closed his eyes tight, another spasm jolting his body.

 _He could see a vision of Voldemort, broken up in flashes of light. He was sitting at the head of a dark oak table, his followers lining him on either side. His lips spread in an eerie smile._

" _What a gift we have here," he sneered, his voice sending a shiver down Harry's spine._

 _And then a flash of light blinded Harry's vision again, and when it cleared he was looking at the other end of the oak table, where a figure was sitting with a dark bag over their head. Harry noticed that the person's hands were cuffed to the chair._

" _A Hogwarts student?!" a voice asked excitedly. Harry recognized it as Bellatrix Lestrange's._

" _Snatched right from Hogsmeade," another Death Eater said, his voice hoarse but giddy with unsuppressed glee._

" _Well, best to return the student before they are missed," Voldemort said slowly. Though Harry couldn't see him now, he could practically hear the smile on his face._

" _But before we do that, of course…"_

" _Imperio."_

* * *

"Oliver! Percy!" came a cry.

Colin Creevey stumbled out of a divot in the flames, holding his side, wincing in pain.

"Colin!" Oliver ran over and held the second-year up.

"It hurts!" he cried.

Oliver gasped when he saw the burns along Colin's side. Percy rushed over and cast a quick numbing charm, which lessened, though didn't eliminate, the younger boy's pain.

"Have you seen anyone else?" Percy asked.

Colin was gasping, clearly in shock, as his eyes darted around wildly. "Um… I… I don't know. I saw Dumbledore and McGonagall. They were trying to help the first and second years out but then there was an explosion, and… a-and…"

"Calm down, it's okay," Jack said, placing a hand on Colin's shoulder. "You're okay. Deep breaths."

"We have to find Ron," Percy insisted.

"Okay, okay," Oliver breathed, trying to calm his nerves. He looked around him, trying to orient himself. Which way was Ron's room? The fire made everything look so unintelligible.

"Oh Merlin," Jack cried. "We're going to die, aren't we?"

"No," Oliver and Marcus shouted simultaneously.

"Don't say that," Percy snapped.

* * *

"Where's Dumbledore," Harry asked between his wild gasps for breath. "I need to speak to him. Where is he?!"

Draco tried to calm Harry down, but the younger boy was shaking.

"Professor Dumbledore is in the tower putting out the flames and getting students out safely," Madame Pomfrey explained calmly. "Now sit still, I need to check you out to make sure there's nothing wrong with you."

"No, you don't understand," Harry said. He looked to his lover, begging him to realize how important it was.

Draco seemed to sense just how grave the situation was, because his gaze sobered. Ron and Hermione, who stood beside the blond boy, looked at their best friend in worry. They'd never seen him so agitated.

"We can't get Dumbledore now, Harry. Just tell us what's wrong, mate. What did you see?" Ron asked, kneeling down beside him.

"I can't, I-" Harry looked around again nervously.

 _It could be anyone,_ he thought to himself, _I can't trust anyone._

"We'll get you to him as soon as the fire is out, Harry," Draco said, nodding to show that he understood how grave the situation was. "I promise."

* * *

The Gryffindors who had been lucky enough to escape the fire were now gathered in the viaduct courtyard too, with Madame Pomfrey and every member of her staff running around attending to various injuries. The rest of the student body were in disarray, despite Professor Snape and Sprout's best efforts to calm them.

"Oh, Merlin," Dean gasped.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Seamus!" Dean shouted, tears streaming down his blackened face.

"Where is he?" Blaise demanded, fighting his way out of the crowd.

"Oh Merlin," Dean cried, "I don't know where he is! When I woke up he wasn't in his bed, then everything happened so quickly, and… oh Merlin…"

Before anyone could say anything, Blaise's lithe form dashed out of the courtyard, in the direction of the Gryffindor tower. Snape tried to stop him physically, but Blaise dodged him and kept running.

"Blaise!" Draco called.

"You know there's no stopping him," Pansy said, though her brow was furrowed deeply in worry.

"I know."

"Out of the way!"

Draco suddenly grabbed Harry, ducking him under just in time. Above them, Adrian, Viktor, and Terrence swooped up towards the tower windows on their broomsticks.

"Boys!" Professor Sprout screamed. "Get down here immediately!"

None of them heeded her warning.

Adrian cast a quick spell and every window was shattered open. The flames burst out of the windows like roaring lions.

"Back up!" Viktor called from the ground, and a second later Terrence leapt backwards on his broom, the flames only singing the very tip.

"Aguamenti!" Terrence shouted, striking at the nearest flaming window.

"Marcus!" Adrian called, peering cautiously but bravely into the windows. "Oliver!"

* * *

"He's not anywhere in here!" Percy shouted in panic. The five of them had managed to navigate to Ron's room, but were now surrounded by ash and crumbling wood.

"Then he must've made it out!" Jack said. "Aguamenti!"

"Aguamenti!" Oliver echoed, stumbling backwards. "Percy, we have to get out of here!"

"Not until we find Ron!" Percy screamed.

"Weasley!" Marcus screamed in desperation.

"Oliver!" came a distant cry.

Oliver turned around, gasping.

"We're here!" he screamed, just before an explosion pushed him backwards, his hands flying to his face.

"Oliver!" Percy gasped. "Aguamenti!"

* * *

"Wood?!" Terrence called. He looked around at his friends. "I heard him. I think I heard him!"

"I did too," Adrian said.

"Boys, move out of my way so I can get to the students inside!" Professor Snape said, maneuvering his broomstick and looking perfectly irritated at the three Slytherins in the air with him.

"Save them," Adrian said, swallowing. "Please."

Snape only blinked in response as he flew past him into the window.

* * *

Blaise rushed around the corner and pulled back the portrait of the Fat Lady. He stumbled to a halt when he saw just how big the fire was. He took a few deep breaths, determined to just pummel through it.

"Blaise!"

Before the Slytherin could turn around, he was bowled over.

"What the hell!" he screamed. He expected to see Draco responsible, but looked up to see it was Theodore.

"Are you crazy?!" Theodore yelled.

"Seamus is still in there!" Blaise yelled back.

"Come on, mate, _think_ about this!" Theo insisted. "You can't just…"

"Yes, I can," Blaise deadpanned.

"I won't let you do it—"

"If you don't let me, I'll…"

"Alone. I won't let you do it alone."

* * *

"It's Snape!" Jack screamed in relief.

"Ask him if Ron made it!" Percy yelled back.

"Are you kidding me?!" Jack screeched.

"Ron made it," Snape said quickly.

"See! Now get your arses over here, you bloody fools!" Jack said as he cradled Colin into Snape's arms and took Viktor's hand.

"Perce, go!" Oliver said, ushering his best friend to the window.

"Marcus!" Adrian called, clasping hands with his best friend as Oliver got onto Terrence's broom. "Thank fucking Merlin."

* * *

" _Seamus!_ " Blaise screamed through the flames.

"This is crazy!" Theodore was shouting, dodging explosions left and right. "I can't even see anything!"

"Aguamenti!" Blaise said as he struck the nearest flame blocking the doorway. He was strangely calm under the circumstances. With flames bellowing all around him, he should have been in panic, but the thought of Seamus still being trapped in there made him fearless.

Blaise saw the markings on the doorway and his mind flashed back to when he had pushed Seamus against the very same doorway to kiss him goodnight. He could recognize that doorway anywhere. Without a second thought, he sprinted through the open flame, ignoring Theodore's shocked cries.

Blaise made it through the other end, where the flames had died down just a tad to where the Slytherin could stand in a small clearing, where the carpet between Neville and Dean's bed used to be.

"Aguamenti!" Theodore yelled, and moments later he pummeled into Blaise, his eyes wild with fear.

"Are you alright?" Blaise asked, his eyes dancing with flames.

Theodore swallowed, but nodded quickly.

"Seamus!" Blaise called. Theodore echoed him.

A few tense moments passed when all the two boys could hear was the roaring flames around them. Until finally…

"Help!"

Blaise froze as he pinpointed the source of the noise.

"There!" he pointed to their left.

"Aguamenti!" Theodore shouted determinedly.

And then Blaise saw him. Seamus was a curled up bundle of white rags, shaking on the tile floor of the bathroom. Blaise could see where Seamus had tried to blow up the wall to get through, but the flames must have knocked him out too badly.

"Seamus!" Blaise gasped as he made his way towards his former lover. When his hands touched the younger boy's face, a fleeting sensation of awe overwhelmed him, but only for a moment before he snapped back into action.

"Theo, help me!"

Theodore was already a step ahead of Blaise. The two Slytherins, quick witted, quick thinking and quick footed, maneuvered Seamus out of the bathroom, through to the bedroom clearing. And then, with a stroke of luck, Blaise saw Terrence's lithe form in the air flickering behind the flames.

"Terrence!" he screamed with relief.

The Slytherin seeker turned his head and the two boys' eyes met.

* * *

"Never, ever, _ever_ do that to me _ever_ again, you half-witted twat!" Pansy screamed, smacking her wand hard on Theodore's skull.

"Ouch," Theodore complained, though his eyes were alight with tired amusement. He was lying on a bed in the hospital wing along with all the other victims of the fire. Thank Merlin – there had been no casualties.

"It was my fault," came Blaise's raspy voice.

Pansy's eyes narrowed and she flung the hospital curtain back.

"You!" she pointed her finger at him. "You should be glad I like you, because if I didn't, I would have hexed you into oblivion!"

Blaise only had the energy to blink, and Pansy took a quick breath.

"Merlin," she sighed, giving in and enveloping Blaise in a tight hug. After a few moments she released him and gave him a good look.

"How's Finnigan?" she asked.

Blaise's eyes softened at the mention of the Irish boy, though they were still tinged with a deep-seated pain.

"Pomfrey says he'll be fine."

Pansy nodded with a tight-lipped, albeit sincere, smile.

"Why aren't you with him?" Theo asked.

Blaise sighed and shrugged, avoiding his housemates' gazes before he walked away with another word.

"You should go to him," Theo urged with sympathetic eyes.

"He's never been the same since they split," Theodore said, sighing heavily, his eyes trailing Blaise's form.

"I know," Pansy said, her lips pursed with concern.

* * *

Harry shivered as he and Draco stood in front of the door to Dumbledore's office.

"You ready?" Draco asked, taking Harry's hand gently in his own.

Harry nodded.

"I… I need to tell him what I saw," he whispered. He hadn't told anybody yet.

"Let's go, then," Draco said, shooting his lover what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

* * *

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